The Dragonborn's Tale - Selene Stormblade Book 4
by Whisper292
Summary: In the fourth installment of the Selene Stormblade series, all seems right with the world as the Thieves Guild, under Selene's leadership, achieves prosperity. A visit from her patron goddess Kynareth, however, reminds Selene that she has other obligations. She has ignored the World Eater long enough, and it is time to fulfill her responsibilities as the Dragonborn. When
1. The Dragonborn's Tale 1: Missions

The Dragonborn's Tale 1

Mission

Dearest Selene,  
Bring two or three of your stealthiest men and come to the Palace of the Kings as soon as possible. I have a job for you.  
Yours,  
Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak

Selene Stormblade read the note several times, sure she was dreaming. Although she had told her ex-lover she would be there if he needed her, she hadn't really thought he would take her up on it. Their lines of work didn't exactly mesh these days. Then again, perhaps they meshed more than she realized.

She handed the note to Brynjolf, who read and then looked up at her, eyes wide. "You have got to be kidding me!" her husband exclaimed. "What could he possibly want with the Thieves Guild? Except maybe to roast us alive."

Selene shook her head. "I don't believe Ulfric would summon me with the express intent of arresting me. He wouldn't hurt me."

"Aye, but what about the rest of us?"

"Do you remember once I told you Falk Firebeard wouldn't turn us in because it's good to have friends in low places? It's probably the same with Ulfric. He's an honorable man, but he's not _that_ honorable. I mean, I did work for him as a spy. I'm sure he'd rather use us than take us down."

"Right, then, let's assume his intentions toward you _are_ honorable. Will you answer the summons?"

"Do you jest? Surely you want to know what all this is about."

Brynjolf shrugged in response. "Who to take with you, then?" They'd had many long discussions about traveling together after she became Guild Master. Delvin and Vex were very adept at handling the day-to-day workings of the Guild, but in the short term, Selene and Brynjolf decided that at least one of them should be in Riften as much as possible. The arrangement worked out pretty well, but they hadn't had to test it for more than two or three nights at a time. "I'm going to the palace with you, and don't try to talk me out of it. Not knowing what you're in for doesn't set well with me. Obviously you should take Karliah. She's by far the stealthiest. Possibly Vex."

"No can do. Vex and I don't get along, and I don't trust her to have my back. I don't care how good she is at infiltration; I won't work with her."

"Love, you're going to have to start trusting her at some point."

"I trust her plenty to do her job. I'm just saying I don't want her defending my back. That's all. I'm sure she feels the same way. I'll take Vipir and Rune."

He scowled as he looked back at the letter. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Are you sure it's not that you just don't want me working for Ulfric Stormcloak?"

"I will have you know I don't have a jealous bone in my body."

"Of course you don't," she humored him, scratching him under the chin.

"Oh, very well. But we leave the three of them outside the city when we go talk the illustrious jarl. I don't care what happens to me, but I won't risk sacrificing them."

"Done. And you behave yourself."

"My love, you cut me to the quick. I would never show disrespect to a man of such import."

"Uh-huh."

* * *

The ground was covered with a blanket of pristine snow and new flakes were just beginning to fall as the thieves stopped a mile outside Windhelm. Selene and Brynjolf left Karliah, Rune, and Vipir to set up camp while they made their way to the city, then on to the Palace of the Kings. It was late afternoon, close to dinnertime, and Ulfric wasn't on the throne. Only Jorleif, his steward, occupied the throne room.

"Well met, Stormblade," he called with his thick Nordic accent.

"Well met, Jorleif. Is Ulfric here? I'm answering a summons."

"Of course. I'll let him know you've arrived." He gave a short bow and strode swiftly from the room.

Selene and Brynjolf stood before the throne, waiting. Selene was a werewolf, and her sense of smell was extraordinarily keen. She could smell fear, anxiety, anger, arousal, and some other emotions; Brynjolf, although he was calm and collected on the outside, was trembling inwardly. He wasn't afraid of Ulfric, but he didn't like the vulnerability of standing before the soon-to-be High King of Skyrim without a clue as to what he wanted. Anxiety flared even stronger in his scent when the jarl entered the throne room.

Ulfric was magnificent as usual, wearing an expensive tunic, black leather pants, and black boots; his golden hair hung loosely around his shoulders except for two war braids. He nodded a greeting to Selene and glared at Brynjolf as he sat down on his throne. "Thank you for coming," he began, "but I believe only two of you may not be enough for the mission."

"We have more," Selene assured him. "We just left them behind rather than bring the whole party to the palace."

"I see." He turned to Brynjolf. "And yet you did bring one escort."

"Aye, I—"

"We didn't think it was prudent to send her alone, either," her husband interrupted.

Ulfric smirked. "Surely you're not implying I would do Selene harm."

"If you'd prefer I say it outright, I'll be glad to. You know her line of work, and it would be foolish to trust you implicitly. After all, how could we be sure you weren't summoning her here to arrest her?"

"You dare accuse me in my own palace?" His voice never rose above normal. He wasn't angry; he was doing nothing more than sparring with Brynjolf. In fact, the smirk was quickly growing into a smile.

"It seems to me that if I'm correct in my assumption, I have nothing to lose anyway."

"Nothing but your head."

"You would take a man's head because he insulted you? Why, it's a wonder there's anyone in Skyrim still living."

"Come now, thief, is that the best you can do? Perhaps living in the shadow of the Dragonborn has dulled your tongue."

"Ah, but it's _my_ tongue that's getting use, no? It must make your blood boil to know she chose the bed of a thief over the throne of a king."

"Careful. It's dangerous to use one's entire vocabulary in a single answer."

Brynjolf chuckled. "And to think, but for a troll slightly outpacing my father, we could have been brothers."

With that, Selene figured it was time to step in. "All right, lads, put away your, ahem, swords. You're both very manly, and I'm suitably impressed. Ulfric, why _did_ you send for me?"

Ulfric glared at Brynjolf for another long moment before turning to Selene. "It seems the Emperor's cousin is getting married."

"Aye, Vittoria Vici. We're invited to the wedding."

"Are you, now?"

Selene nodded. "Elisif made me Thane of Haafingar."

"Congratulations. I hadn't heard. Perhaps _you_ haven't heard that the Emperor is planning to attend said wedding. The _Katariah_ arrived in Solitude yesterday. I have operatives stationed all over the city, but I'm running short."

"That's where I come in."

Ulfric nodded. "The moot has been scheduled. It will be held in Solitude on the First of Morning Star during the New Life Festival. As far as we have been able to ascertain, the Emperor had made no plans to attend this wedding until _after_ we decided on a date for the moot."

"You think he's come to meet with the Thalmor about an assassination?"

"That's exactly what I think."

"What makes you think Elisif will even let him into the city?"

"Solitude might belong to the Stormcloaks, but Elisif is still loyal to the Empire."

"She's also afraid of you and won't do anything to get on your bad side. Do you want me to talk to her and find out what's going on?"

"No, you're too close to the woman. I have someone else stationed in the Blue Palace. I need you to get aboard the _Katariah_ and look for evidence."

Brynjolf gave a low whistle. "Infiltrating the Emperor's ship. Nice."

"If you think you can handle it," Ulfric dared him.

"Are you joking? That's my idea of fun. But we don't work for free."

"That is where your thieves come in. The ship will likely be carrying a bounty. Bring me any documentation you find, but feel free to raid the _Katariah_ of any valuables. That being said, you will receive payment from me as well. Five thousand septims if you bring me something I can use."

"And if we don't?"

"There will be something, I'm sure. Just bring me what you can."

"You didn't answer my question."

"We'll find you something," Selene assured Ulfric.

"I don't need to tell you Solitude will be crawling with Thalmor and Penitus Oculatus. Take extreme care not to get caught."

She smiled up at him. "Ulfric, it's me you're talking to."

"Aye, but I don't know your crew. I assume they are the best you have, but I haven't met them. Although I'm sure your husband here can handle himself."

Brynjolf didn't respond and didn't bother to mention that he wouldn't be going on the mission. He just gave Ulfric a cold smile.

"Don't worry," said Selene. "They _are_ the best, and we won't get caught."

Ulfric nodded to Jorleif, who stepped forward and handed Selene a piece of rolled parchment. She opened it to see floor plans for the _Katariah._ "These will come in handy," she mused.

"You will find a fisherman on the docks named Magnor," said Jorleif. "Speak to him, tell him your uncle said the slaughterfish are bad this time of year, and he will lend you a boat."

"Get back to me as soon as possible with whatever you find," Ulfric instructed her, "but if you come upon anything time sensitive, take it to Thrand. He is a lieutenant in Elisif's personal guard, but he works for me. He will know what to do."

Selene nodded. "I know Thrand. Shouldn't be a problem."

Selene and Brynjolf said their goodbyes to Ulfric and went to meet Karliah, Rune, and Vipir at the campsite. They went over the ship's floor plan carefully, discussing which part each of them would play in the heist. Brynjolf left the next morning, and he and Selene held each other for a long time before he turned and headed south.

Karliah rested a comforting hand on Selene's shoulder as she watched him go. "What do you say we get this over with so you can get back to him quickly?"

"You're right. Let's go."

* * *

The moons were dark on the night of Vittoria Vici's wedding, and heavy clouds only served to make the gloom worse. It was a bad night for a wedding, but it didn't put a damper on the revels. Sounds of the raucous party could be heard far below, where a small fishing boat sailed slowly and silently toward the _Katariah._ It was _not_ a bad night for the four dark figures who huddled in the dinghy. It floated gently up to the ship's massive anchor and slowed to a stop, and three of the figures began to climb.

"Twenty minutes," Selene whispered to Vipir, who started rowing away as soon as his comrades were safely inside the ship. She, Karliah, and Rune emerged in a cargo hold, and Rune immediately began looking through crates and chests to see what he could get into. Karliah followed Selene out of the hold and up through the crew's quarters. They ascended the stairs and separated as the elf started looting. It was Rune and Karliah's job to liberate the ship of any and all valuables while Selene searched the captain's and Emperor's quarters for evidence that might be of use to Ulfric. Karliah would take the upper decks, and Rune would raid the cargo hold and vault. Vipir would be waiting with the boat when they were finished.

On her way to the captain's quarters, Selene slipped past a few agents of the Penitus Oculatus, the Emperor's personal guard, who sat around a table playing cards. She picked the lock and ducked inside, hoping the locked door was an indication that the captain was not on the ship. The room was empty, and she sifted through a smile pile of papers on his desk. There were several schedules, including the itinerary of the _Katariah_ itself and the Emperor's personal calendar. Stealing any paperwork might tip Ulfric's hand; they had to make this look like a simple heist, so she made notes. It appeared the ship would be in port another fortnight, at which time the Emperor would meet with Elisif, the captain of the city guard, various dignitaries, and Elenwen. The meeting with the Thalmor ambassador was three days hence, so Selene would need to find Thrand before they left town. She finished up and placed her notes into a waterproofed-leather pouch and then looked around the room.

The captain's room also afforded a locked chest, which Selene broke into. There was some pretty expensive armor inside, but she couldn't afford to take it if she was to sneak back past the Penitus Oculatus agents. She did take a couple of pieces of jewelry, a hefty sack of gold, and a small crossbow that glowed red with magic. It was warm to the touch just like her own bow; it had a fire enchantment. Crossbows were extremely rare in Skyrim. The weapon alone would bring a nice sum, and the enchantment on it only made it more valuable. She hid the crossbow under her cape as she slinked past the Penitus Oculatus and found her way to the Emperor's quarters. She ran into Karliah, who was on her way to the exit, and passed off the crossbow.

The Emperor's suite was at the back of the ship. The lush room was decorated with Imperial banners, and several bookshelves and display cases stood along the walls. Windows lined the curved wall at the back of the room and would normally have provided a stunning view. Tonight, all Selene saw through the windows was fog. A heavy door led out to a balcony that curled around the outside of the ship. The Emperor's huge desk was in the center of the room, and Selene went right to work. She found copies of the schedules she already had and also dug up two letters. The first was from Elenwen.

Your Excellency,  
I was happy to hear of your trip to Skyrim for your cousin's wedding. This will be an excellent time to discuss plans to retake the province. We must not allow these subversives to use this victory as a stepping stone to initiate more action against the Empire or the Aldmeri Dominion. We are in a precarious position here. I am sure you understand that the Stormcloaks only allow the Thalmor to stay in Solitude as a way of watching us and policing our actions. The sooner we set down a strategy for retaliation, the better.  
I do not believe assassinating Ulfric Stormcloak would be advisable at this time. He can serve the Thalmor better as High King. Our intelligence has indicated that he will sit on the throne at the Palace of the Kings rather than move to Solitude. Thus, Solitude will be the starting point of our campaign, with the replacement of Elisif as Jarl to be our first action. However, due to the terms of our agreement, we cannot set this plan in motion without your counsel.  
Please meet with me while you are in Solitude so we can discuss this matter further.  
Yours,  
Elenwen  
First Emissary

Selene copied the letter and put it in her pouch, then moved on to the second, which was from Elisif.

Your Excellency,  
I was distressed to hear that you have insisted on coming to Solitude for your cousin's wedding. As I stated before, my personal feelings are not the issue. Skyrim has seceded from the Empire, and Solitude is now a Stormcloak city. While I will not refuse your admittance, and I cannot guarantee your safety while you are within its walls. I implore you to reconsider this trip.  
Sincerely,  
Elisif  
Jarl of Haafingar

Selene made a copy of the letter, stuffed it in her pouch, and looked around some more; but she didn't find anything else she could use. She would talk to Thrand about the meeting with Elenwen; hopefully they could get eyes and ears into her meeting with the Emperor. Ulfric's head would spin around when he read the part about best serving the Thalmor as High King. He hated Elenwen with a passion, and with good reason. When he found out she considered him an asset, he would be furious.

There might not have been anything else for Ulfric, but Selene did pick up some valuable loot, including a set of the Emperor's robes that would make a nice trophy for the Guild's vault. As she was heading for the door, she heard voices. There was uproar outside, angry voices, and several people heading for the Emperor's quarters. Selene hastily stepped through the door onto the balcony and peered in the window.

The captain and a couple of other guards were ushering the Emperor into the room, practically pushing him until he was seated at his desk.

"Your Excellency, we should weigh anchor at once."

"Don't you think you're being hasty, Captain Avidius?"

"My Lord, your cousin was just murdered! We can't be certain that arrow wasn't meant for you."

_Sweet mother of Nocturnal_, Selene thought. _Killing Vittoria Vici_ _at her own wedding? That's cold, even for Ulfric._

"Increase security around the ship, then. I have told you before that I will not run away from adversity. I will see this through."

This was not good. Oblivion was breaking loose in Solitude, and she and her thieves were right in the middle of it. And why would they murder Vittoria? Had the arrow actually been meant for the Emperor? Or was Elisif perhaps the target? After all, she had a copy of a letter that said the Thalmor intended to "replace" her. The guards would be on high alert and likely checking everybody's pockets and purses. She had to go back in the city to talk to Thrand, but it might be best if the others camped elsewhere.

Getting in and out of the city wasn't the most immediate problem, however. Selene was stuck on this balcony and she was well past the twenty-minute time limit they had set. There were only two ways she was going to get off this balcony. One was to open the door and sneak back through the Emperor's personal chambers and past agitated guards; the other, she could simply jump. She was quite high, but she was sure she had jumped from higher, and there was nothing for it. It was that or be arrested. She might be able to talk her way past Solitude's guards, but there was no way her status as Thane or Guild Master would work with the Penitus Oculatus.

"Kynareth, Nocturnal," she whispered. "Whichever one of you sent the fog, thank you. Now, could you please give me a soft landing?" She had brought along a waterbreathing amulet, which she pulled out of a pocket and clasped around her neck. Then, with a quick look inside to make sure no one was peering out the window, she climbed over the rail, took a deep breath, and let go.

She supposed it was a relatively soft landing—no belly flops, no hidden rocks below the surface, no slaughterfish waiting to bite her legs—but it still hurt. The icy water stung her skin, her bones ached from the impact, and her ears felt as if they would burst. But she soon hit her depth and started swimming slowly upward. The sack of gold weighed her down, but with increased effort she managed to make it to the surface. Amulet notwithstanding, she gasped for air when she emerged. The boat creaked not too far away.

"Selene?" Rune whispered. "Is that you?"

She swam toward the sound of his voice, and her companions sighed with relief as she appeared out of the fog.

"What in the Void happened?" Vipir asked as he reached down and helped her into the boat.

"Let's get as far away from this ship as we can, and then I'll tell you."

* * *

Karliah, Rune, and Vipir left Selene with the boat and headed to Morthal, where Selene would meet them after she spoke to Thrand. On her own, and with nothing suspicious on her person, she had no trouble getting back into the city. When Elisif had made Selene Thane, the jarl had insisted that she buy a home in Solitude, and the Dragonborn was now the lucky owner of Proudspire Manor. Figuring she would want to make it into a safe house for Guild members, she managed to talk Elisif out of giving her a housecarl, and the privacy had come in handy. She rested there for a few hours before going to the Blue Palace.

Thrand said that as far as he knew, Ulfric had not called for an assassination. The Emperor and his family had many enemies, so the hit could have been ordered by any number of people. No one had been caught; the assassin had gotten away clean—they had evidently taken a leap even higher than hers, having run along the wall and plummeted to the inlet below. Many said the assassin couldn't have survived such a jump, but searchers found no body. Thrand assured Selene he would get someone into the meeting between Elenwen and the Emperor and talk to Bolgeir about increasing Elisif's personal guard.

She met her friends in Morthal the next day, and they headed for home quite a bit wealthier. Rune had managed to crack the master lock to the vault and had hit pay dirt. With the take from the vault and the items Selene and Karliah scavenged above decks, they came away with gold totaling over 5,000 septims, twenty gems, several pieces of enchanted armor and jewelry, and three magical weapons. Selene considered keeping the crossbow. It was beautiful, made of ebony, and had carvings similar to those on her Nightingale bow. She thought she would try it out and see which she liked better.

Selene left the thieves outside Windhelm when she returned to Ulfric. He was sitting on the throne when she entered the Palace of the Kings, and he stood as she approached.

"Where is your husband?" he asked, descending the steps to meet her.

"He took care of things at home while we went on the mission." She approached and handed him the notes she had taken. "I assume you've already heard what happened to Vittoria Vici?"

"Aye," he replied absently as he read Elenwen's letter. His face reddened, and he called Elenwen several unflattering names under his breath. "I trust you spoke with Thrand about this?"

Selene nodded. "He said he would handle it."

"Good." He nodded to Jorleif, who stepped into the war room, then turned back to Selene. "I thank you for doing this. I hope it didn't cause any trouble with—"

"None whatsoever. He trusts me, and I trust that if anything happened to me, not even the Emperor himself could escape his wrath."

Ulfric chuckled. Jorleif returned with a large sack of gold, which he handed to Selene, then stepped back. "How did you do otherwise?" the jarl asked her.

"Not bad," she replied modestly. "The Emperor carries a lot of stuff with him that he probably shouldn't."

"After this, perhaps he'll think twice before doing so again."

"Perhaps. Ulfric, I can't really stay; my friends are waiting outside of town, and we're going to try to get as far as we can before nightfall."

"I understand. I hope I can continue to call upon you when I need you."

"Of course."

He picked up her hand and kissed it. Selene didn't know what possessed her, but she let him do it. "Talos guide you," he said softly.

Selene sighed with relief as she left the Palace of the Kings. Yes, Brynjolf could trust her. She would never do anything to hurt him. But she couldn't ignore the fact that her heart still fluttered when Ulfric kissed her hand. Maybe she should have told him no when he asked if he could call upon her again.

* * *

They pushed hard and made it all the way to Eldergleam Sanctuary before stopping for the night, and they camped inside with the sound of the waterfall echoing through the huge cavern. Vipir took the first watch, and Karliah and Rune snuggled into one bedroll together. Selene lay awake for a while, looking up at the waterfall and the starlit sky above the Eldergleam and thinking about Brynjolf. It had been a fortnight since they had parted south of Windhelm, and in quiet times like this it felt like years. She breathed a heavy sigh, thinking she should have taken the first watch. She wasn't sleeping anyway. The closer they got to home, the more she missed him. How was she supposed to sleep when all she could think about was getting back to him? She would give most anything to feel his strong arms around her, to taste his lips, to lie with her arms and legs intertwined with his. Just a few more days.

Suddenly she was sitting under the Eldergleam, and Kynareth sat next to her, a butterfly resting contently on her fingertips. Selene looked out over the sanctuary and could actually see herself asleep next to the others.

"My lady, this dream is rather...disconcerting."

"I could have taken you to my vale, but this was more convenient, no?"

Selene shrugged. "I can't say. I don't know how it works. I wouldn't have minded strawberries, though."

The goddess placed a hand on her arm and squeezed it affectionately. "Child, you are such a dear. You have done well for yourself and with your guild, but the time has come."

"Time?"

"The World Eater has been languishing, traveling between this world and others, but now he has resolved to fulfill his mission on Nirn. It is time for you to set aside your other concerns and undertake your responsibilities as Dragonborn."

"But I've been killing dragons. What else can I do?"

"You must go to Delphine." Selene rolled her eyes, and Kynareth chuckled. "You are so like a petulant child sometimes. We all do things we would rather not do, Selene. You do not have to like it, but it is necessary to work with her. The longer you delay, the stronger the World Eater will become."

"I understand. Should I leave straightaway, or can I go see my husband first?"

Again, the goddess laughed lovingly. "Go see your husband. A few days will not make that much difference. But then do what you must."

Selene opened her eyes and sat up in her bedroll. She felt something soft and moist in her hand, and she raised it to find a strawberry curled in her palm.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	2. The Dragonborn's Tale 2: The Innkeeper

The Dragonborn's Tale 2

The Innkeeper

It was just past midnight when Selene and her friends arrived in Riften. She accompanied the others to the Ragged Flagon, figuring Brynjolf would still be there, but Vekel said he'd gone home. She left the tavern and made her way out of the Ratway and through town. She was cold, tired and grungy, and her muscles were complaining with every step, begging her to get some rest. But more than anything, she wanted to see her husband. Outside Honeyside, she nodded to a guard, then unlocked the door and let herself in. The fire had been banked and the house was warm, a welcome relief from the frigid night air.

Brynjolf was in bed, snoring softly. He wore only a pair of tan breeches, and his feet were tangled up in the covers. The sight of him lying there like that, his red hair shimmering in the firelight, looking almost innocent with his arms curled around her pillow, made her heart leap within her chest. The fact that he was sleeping so soundly, he hadn't heard her enter the house disturbed her a little. His scent was strong with mead, and she wondered if he hadn't roused because he was drunk. She sat down on her side of the bed and combed her fingers through his hair, jolting him awake.

His eyes flew open and he gasped, but when he saw it was her, a broad smile crossed his face and he reached for her. Realizing the pillow was in his way, he tossed it aside and took her in his arms. "I missed you," he muttered drowsily.

"I missed you, too," she said, snuggling down next to him. "I didn't think you'd be in bed this early."

"Drank a bit too much and came home to sleep it off. I did that a lot while you were away, I'm afraid." He caressed her cheek and leaned in to brush his lips against hers.

Selene returned the kiss but pulled back after a brief moment. "I want to get out of my armor and wash up. Why don't you go back to sleep, and I'll wake you when I come to bed."

"What, and miss watching you bathe? Not a chance. Besides, I've mostly sobered up. I got you a gift." He nodded toward the kitchen.

She went to the kitchen and gaped, surprised she hadn't noticed it when she came in. One of the cupboards had been moved, and in its place was a brand-new bathtub already filled with water. Next to it was a dish of scented soaps, a clean washcloth, and a fluffy towel. "Oh, this is perfect!" she squealed. All she'd had previously was a shallow basin to wash in; it had been months since she'd had a proper bath.

"The water's probably cold; I filled it yesterday. But a couple of kettles won't take long to warm up."

She dipped two kettles into the tub and drew out some water, then put them over the fire to heat. While she waited, she stripped out of her armor and discussed the trip with Brynjolf. "Have you heard about Vittoria Vici?" she asked him.

"Aye. Asgeir Snow-Shod and his family returned from Solitude yesterday. And you know how the guards gossip. They're saying it was the Dark Brotherhood."

"Well, it's not Ulfric. At least I don't think it is. His man in Solitude didn't know anything about it, and he didn't mention it when I returned to him."

"So did you find something he could use?"

"Of course. We came away with quite a bit the Guild could use, as well. Aside from missing my husband, it was a very good trip." She checked the water in the kettles and, deciding it was warm enough, took them off the fire and poured them into the tub, leaving some out to rinse her hair with. After stirring the water around a bit to mix the warm with the cold, she stepped in and completely immersed herself. "Oh, this is lovely," she cooed when she emerged amid a cloud of steam, the warm water soaking in and soothing her tired, aching muscles.

Brynjolf picked up one of the soaps and dipped it into the water, then worked it into a lather. Selene closed her eyes and relaxed as he shampooed her hair, working the soap into her tresses and gently massaging her scalp, scrubbing away several days' worth of grime. Shampooing didn't take nearly as long as it used to, and after too short a time he dipped a cup into the kettle of rinse water and poured it through her hair. When all the soap was rinsed away, he squeezed out the excess water. He picked up the washcloth, wet and soaped it up, then worked his way from the top down, gliding the rag gingerly over her face and ears, then across her neck and back, over the scars on her shoulder and down her arms. He even took care to clean beneath her fingernails. He washed her breasts and down her abdomen, taking extra time to stroke between her legs and eliciting a pleasurable moan. When she lay back in the tub and started to squirm, he smiled slyly and ran the washcloth down her leg. Selene giggled when he washed her feet, the rag tickling between her toes. He finally rinsed her body and handed her the towel so she could dry off.

"I'm not done," he told her. "Come into the bedroom and lie down on your stomach."

Selene did as he instructed, and he reached in the nightstand drawer and brought out a bottle of lavender scented oil, which he proceeded to spread on her skin. Having never been pampered this way, she closed her eyes and smiled blissfully as he worked the oil into the muscles of her back, and his fingertips lingered over her bottom before traveling down and working on her legs. Selene giggled again when he rubbed her feet.

"Someone's ticklish," he observed with an impish grin.

"Don't even think about it."

He ignored her, of course, and she squealed and kicked at him as he scratched softly with his fingernails, raising goosebumps all the way up her legs. After what seemed like forever but was actually only a few seconds, he took mercy and stopped tickling her. He told her to turn over, and she did so, then he started upward with the oil. He glided over her legs and hips, past her breasts and on to her arms, where he took extra care with her rough elbows. Then his strong hands moved back to her breasts, kneading them, squeezing her nipples until they were hard and tingly.

He took one more dollop of oil and put the bottle away; then he lay down next to her and propped on one elbow while his other hand moved downward. She spread her legs as he massaged the nub between them, and she drew a quivering breath.

"Do you like that?" he asked, eyes locked with hers.

"Aye."

"You want me to do more?"

"Aye."

He shook his head. "Not yet."

"Ah, so you're teasing me tonight, then?"

"Just a bit."

He leaned over and placed his mouth on hers. Selene threaded her fingers through his hair as she opened her mouth to his and gasped softly as he fondled and caressed the slit and folds for several long minutes before finally shoving two fingers inside her. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart hammered as he massaged her inner core, first gently then rougher, until delicious shivers radiated throughout her body. With one hand still firmly entangled in his hair, she grasped the covers beneath her with the other and pounded her fist on the bed.

"Are you going to scream for me, lass?" he prodded, watching her with heavily lidded eyes, his breathing shallow and uneven.

"If you...keep that up."

Brynjolf redoubled his efforts, working his fingers in and out, and Selene could feel the wave building up within her, threatening to overwhelm her. A haze filled her mind, almost as though she were going to pass out, and she bucked her hips and cried out, riding the wave until it broke over her. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she screamed as the spasms shot through her body. She was vaguely aware of Brynjolf saying something along the lines of, "That's what I want to hear," but she was too far gone to respond with anything more than incoherent babbling.

Before her climax faded completely, he untied the laces of his breeches, pulled them off, and threw them to the floor. He lay on his back and pulled her on top, and she straddled him and guided him inside. It was his turn to gasp and moan as she rode him, gyrating her hips slowly, rhythmically. His fingers rested on her hips, and his eyes locked with hers, his breath coming in shallow gasps. She moved faster as he reached up and took hold of her breast, his hands rough as he squeezed and pinched. Evidently feeling the need to take over, Brynjolf sat up abruptly and wrapped one arm around her, balancing himself with the other and pressing his mouth hard on hers. He drove into her slowly but forcefully, filling her, eliciting an ecstatic wail with every powerful thrust. He lay back and pulled her with him, his fingers digging into her bottom as he buried himself to the hilt. They clung together, swept away on a river of passion until they were both crying out at the top of their lungs as they went over the edge together.

They lay together for a long time afterward, Brynjolf still inside her, his arms around her as he rested his head on her shoulder. Selene felt light-headed, almost giddy as she turned her head and laid a soft kiss on his cheek.

"We do that very well," she whispered, rising up to look at his handsome face.

"Aye, we certainly do," he replied, then reached up to kiss her.

* * *

Later, as they lay together in the warmth of the furs, Selene heard a dragon howling off in the distance, and she thought of her earlier conversation with Brynjolf . When she had told him about her trip, she had left out the dream with Kynareth, planning to wait until the right time to tell him. But she figured if she wasn't careful she would let it go too long.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"What makes you think anything's wrong?"

"Your body tensed up. Did you hear the dragon?"

"Aye, but that's not it." She propped up on her elbows and looked into his eyes. "There's something I need to tell you. I dreamt of Kynareth while I was away."

"And..."

"She said it's time to fulfill my obligations as Dragonborn and that I need to go see Delphine. I can't stay in town long. I need to get to her as soon as possible."

He swallowed hard. "How long can you stay?"

"I figured a day or two. But Brynjolf, I want you to go with me. I don't know how long I'll be gone, whether it will be a few days or weeks. And if the World Eater is involved, who knows if I'll come back at all?"

"Being apart from you for nearly three weeks was hard, and I wasn't in the best of moods. I think Del and Vex would run things for a while just so they didn't have to be subjected to that again. But I don't know how much help I'll be."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. It's not like you slow me down or I have to worry about your safety. You can take care of yourself—and me, as well. Just having you by my side gives me strength."

Brynjolf pulled her down to him and kissed her softly. "You don't have to ask me twice; you know that, right? Take a couple of days to rest up, and then we'll leave. But it's been a long time since you left Delphine. Do you think she'll even talk to you?"

"I don't know," she admitted with a shrug. "And if she does, will I even want to hear what she has to say? Did you ever meet someone that you just hated instantly? It was that way with me and Delphine. I might need you there just to make sure I don't leave again."

"This is Delphine at the Sleeping Giant in Riverwood, right? I don't know if I ever told you or not, but I know her. Not well, mind you, but I've stayed at the inn, and she has asked the Guild for help from time to time. There's definitely more to her than just being an innkeeper."

"No, I don't think you told me. Perhaps knowing her will make you even better at keeping us from fighting."

He chuckled. "When we went to see Ulfric, you told me to behave. Now it's my turn to tell you."

"Aye, but I don't do what I'm told."

"I didn't do what I was told, either."

Selene glared at him. "No, you didn't. You know Ulfric is very protective of his father's memory. The troll comment could have escalated your little insult match to a place where you didn't want to go."

"I'm not afraid of Ulfric Stormcloak."

"And yet you say you're not a warrior. You're not going to like hearing this, but you don't want to fight Ulfric. You would not win."

"Now who's tossing out insults?" he exclaimed indignantly.

"I don't mean to insult you, love. You're more of a fighter than you like to admit, but Ulfric has fifteen years of experience on you, and he's spent his life honing his skills."

"Well I don't think it'll come to that anyway, but it was fun pushing his buttons."

She smiled and rolled her eyes. "You're impossible. Do you know that?"

"Aye, I've been told that before."

* * *

It was a brisk, sunny afternoon when Selene and Brynjolf arrived in Riverwood, the type of day a Nord didn't mind being outside. Selene did everything she could to stay outside, too. She sold a couple of items to Alvor and stayed to chat for a few minutes. She talked with Gerdur for a while. She even played a quick game of tag with Frodnar and Dorthe. Brynjolf finally grabbed her by the shoulders, turned her around, and pushed her toward the Sleeping Giant Inn.

"Come on," he prodded her. "It'll be painless."

"I'm not so sure." She had worked coming meeting with Delphine up in her mind to the point that she was actually apprehensive about entering the inn. This woman had gone through Ustengrav with the express intention of leaving her a gods-damned note; then when Selene arrived in Riverwood, she had the gall to insult her and imply that Selene wasn't who she said she was. To top it all off, when Selene had started to leave, Delphine threatened her! This meeting had no chance of going well.

When she walked in the door, however, the sight of a blond, blue-eyed Stormcloak put her instantly at ease. Ralof sat at a table with a tankard of mead in front of him. "Hey, look who it is!" he shouted, getting up from his seat and grabbing her up in a bear hug. "How've you been?"

"Good," Selene said, returning the hug. When she pulled back, she pointed to Brynjolf. "Got married. This is Brynjolf."

"That's great!" Ralof reached out to shake Brynjolf's hand. "Congratulations. I'm Ralof. Selene and I are old friends."

"Aye, you're the one she escaped from Helgen with, right?"

"That, I am."

"What are you doing here?" Selene asked him.

"I'm on leave. They've scheduled the moot for the beginning of next month, and I'm going to be in Ulfric's personal guard. Galmar said he wanted me and the others fresh. Frankly, I'm bored here. I'd just as soon stay at my post."

Selene looked past Ralof to see Delphine standing behind him, arms folded, staring at her. She sighed and said, "I'm afraid I have to cut this short, my friend. I'm here to see Delphine."

"Have a drink with me if you have time when you're done."

"Will do." Ralof sat back down, and Selene met eyes with Delphine, who nodded, turned, and led them through the inn and down to her secret room.

"Brynjolf, I certainly didn't expect to see you here," Delphine said when they were safely tucked away.

"Selene and I married recently."

"Congratulations. So you're ready to hear me out?"

"Go on," Selene replied, "I'm listening."

"I'm part of a group that's been looking for you—well, someone like you—for a long time. If you really are Dragonborn, that is. I'm afraid I still need proof."

"Still think I'm a Thalmor plant?"

"No, but that doesn't mean you're who you say you are."

Selene glared at her, and Brynjolf put a hand out to steady her. "Selene said the Thalmor after you."

"The Thalmor and I are very old enemies, and if my suspicions are correct, they might have something to do with the dragons returning. If they're not responsible, they might know who is."

Selene folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "And the part you're not telling me?"

"Dragons aren't just coming back; they're coming back _to life_. They weren't gone somewhere all those years. They were dead. Now something's happening to bring them back to life, and I need you to help me stop it."

"Do you know how crazy that sounds?" Brynjolf remarked. "What makes you think dragons are coming back to life?"

"I _know_ they are. I've visited their ancient burial mounds and found them empty. I also know where the next one will come back to life."

"How did you figure all this out?" Selene asked.

"You should know. You got the map for me from Bleak Falls Barrow. The Dragonstone, remember? It's a map of ancient dragon burial sites across Skyrim."

"I remember."

Brynjolf pointed at the map on the table in the center of the room. "This map? You have Kynesgrove circled."

"There's a pretty clear pattern to the resurrections. They started in the southeast, down in the Jeralls near Riften, and have spread north from there. Kynesgrove will be next if the pattern holds. Selene, we're going to go to Kynesgrove, and you're going to kill that dragon."

"Yes, ma'am!" Selene barked, snapping to attention. Brynjolf rolled his eyes. "Let's get one thing straight, Delphine. That's the last time you tell me what I'm going to do. Got it? I'll help you because I think you're right, but I won't be taking orders from you."

"You will if you're smart."

"Breathe, Selene," Brynjolf murmured.

Fury boiled up within Selene, and even her wolf spirit perked its head up. She wanted to hit the bitch, lay her out with one punch, but it wouldn't do anybody any good so she reined in the impulse. She wanted to leave, but that would put them right back where they started. She also wanted to set her beast form free, tear Delphine to pieces, and eat her heart; but she certainly couldn't do that. Fine, she wouldn't do anything rash, but she wasn't about to let this obnoxious innkeeper threaten her again.

"Delphine, how many dragons have you killed?" The Breton didn't answer and didn't hold Selene's gaze. "I think my count is thirteen now. And if you've been paying attention at all, you might know that I acquired a surname since we last spoke—Stormblade. I've killed thirteen dragons, and I helped Ulfric Stormcloak cut a swath across Skyrim and land victorious in Solitude. I've also spent most of the last three years fighting draugr, Falmer, vampires, you name it. If you think your lame threats are going to intimidate me, you're sorely mistaken."

Delphine squeezed her eyes shut, rubbed her temples, and groaned in frustration. "Selene, why can't you understand I'm not your enemy?"

"Perhaps not, but you're certainly not my friend. I have news for you. You may need my help, but I don't need yours. I know where the next dragon will come to life, and I know you think the Thalmor are involved. With my contacts, I would imagine I can launch a pretty effective investigation with that information."

Delphine looked up at Brynjolf. "Is she always this hostile?"

"No, she's not, lass," he said, although Delphine was years older than he was. "Perhaps you'd care to try another tactic when talking to her."

"I am in the room," Selene reminded them.

"Aye, and you said something about me keeping you from leaving it, remember? You are being unreasonable."

"I'm not!"

"Now, love, don't give me that look. You are. All right, why don't we all just take a breather and start again? Delphine, you say you need proof that Selene's the Dragonborn. You don't know her and you already have trust issues, so I think that's reasonable. You're going to go kill that dragon anyway, Selene, right? Is there any reason Delphine can't tag along just to ease her mind?"

"How about that it's a four-day trip to Kynesgrove? Do you think you can keep us from strangling each other?"

"Of course, I can. Ladies, it's simple. You can agree to help each other—that's _help each other_—or the dragon threat can continue to get worse. What'll it be?"

Selene glared at Delphine. "It's gonna be a long trip."

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	3. The Dragonborn's Tale 3: Dragonslayer

The Dragonborn's Tale 3

Dragonslayer

Selene and Delphine were like oil and water. They didn't agree on anything, and they spent a lot of time bickering. Poor Brynjolf ran interference as best he could, and Selene felt bad for putting him through it all; but she simply couldn't stand the woman, and she couldn't bring herself to be civil. She had to admit Delphine was a good fighter, though. They were attacked by a group of bandits just northeast of Whiterun, and the older woman really held her own. Brynjolf was the shining star in that battle, single-handedly putting away three of the brigands.

On their second night out, Selene awoke to the sound of a sabre cat's roar. She was on her feet in a second, sword in hand. Brynjolf, who had been standing watch, was already fighting the big cat, which sported a large gash in its side. It roared in pain and took a swipe at Brynjolf, sending him sprawling. It leapt for him before she could reach it, but Brynjolf was ready, bringing Chillrend up swiftly and skewering the beast. It landed heavily on him, and he swore and groaned in pain.

Selene and Delphine rushed over and, with great effort, pulled the sabre cat off him. He lay on the hard ground, gasping for air for several minutes with an agonized grimace on his face. He finally started to sit up, but he flinched. "Damn, that sucker's heavy. I think it broke a couple of ribs when it fell on me."

"Let me see." Selene helped Brynjolf hobble over to the fire and take his cuirass off while Delphine looked in her pack for some healing potions. Sure enough, his side was already bruised and swollen. "Healing spell," she said curtly. She looked into her hands as if she were trying to see the magicka and then gathered her will for the spell. Warm, golden light appeared in her hand, and she held it over Brynjolf's ribs as he lay back on his bedroll. His side was still black and blue when her magicka ran out, but the swelling was gone.

Delphine handed him a healing potion, and he drank it off. "That's better," he sighed. "You should practice more with the magic, love. That healing spell comes in handy."

"Get some rest," Delphine told him. "I'll take the watch."

* * *

They passed Windhelm amid a snowstorm, which caused whiteout conditions at times. The snow lightened up a bit as they headed south toward Kynesgrove, which was only a couple of miles away. By the time they reached the little burg, it was only flurrying. On the way into town, they met a woman—the innkeeper, Selene thought—running away.

"No, you don't want to up there," she warned them. "A dragon! It's attacking!"

"Where?" Selene asked.

"It flew over the town and landed on the old dragon burial mound. I don't know what it's doing up there, but I'm not waiting around to find out." A dragon howled, and the innkeeper leapt into the air, squealed, and started running again.

"I hope we're not too late," said Delphine as they darted past the inn and up the hill toward the mound.

Then Selene saw him, and she came up short, suddenly unable to go any farther. A cold chill ran down her spine, and her heart felt as if it would stop as she watched the hulking monstrosity hover over the hill. No mistake, it was the black dragon from Helgen.

"Lorkhan's eyes, look at that big bastard!" Delphine exclaimed as the dragon swooped and circled overhead. "Keep your head down; let's see what it does."

Like she was going to try to draw its attention.

As they reached the mound at the top of the hill, the black dragon stopped and lingered over the mound, and in a soft, almost gentle voice said, _"Sahloknir. Ziil gro dorah ulse."_ Selene had no idea what it meant, but it wasn't too hard to figure out what he was doing. There was only one reason he would be talking to a dragon mound.

"Steady," said Delphine. "I don't know what's happening. Let's watch and wait."

"Do you see me rushing forward to fight him?"

Delphine glared at her but didn't respond.

"_Dien tiid vo!"_ the black dragon shouted, and the mound burst open and a dragon's skeleton crawled out.

"This is worse than I thought," Delphine muttered.

Selene watched as fire gathered around the skeleton in what seemed to be a reverse of what happened when she absorbed a soul. Flames engulfed it as skin and scales reformed around the bones. After a moment, fully whole, the resurrected dragon shook himself off and looked up at the other.

"_Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?"_

Selene didn't understand much of what the new dragon said, but she understood "Alduin." She'd heard the name before, and the pieces started to come together. The black dragon was Alduin, the World Eater. And he was hanging in the air only a few feet away from them.

"_Geh, Sahloknir. Kaali mir."_ Alduin looked down at Selene, and although she didn't really get dragons' facial expressions, she could have sworn he smirked. _"Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi._ You do not even know our tongue, do you? Such arrogance to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah."

"I didn't take the name," she replied defiantly with no idea where her courage was coming from. "It was given to me. And I did understand you. You said you didn't see any sign of the _dov_ in me. But you're wrong."

The black dragon chuckled. "How many souls have you absorbed, _Dovahkiin?_ How many of my brethren have you enslaved within yourself to learn our tongue?"

"Enough."

"So knowledgeable. And yet you know nothing. You are not worth my time. _Sahloknir, krii daar joorre."_

That prompt, Selene understood all too well. Alduin had just ordered _Sahloknir_ to kill them. The black dragon flew away, leaving her and her companions to fight the newly resurrected dragon, who took to the air as well. Selene took aim with the crossbow and shot, catching him in the throat. _Sahloknir_ howled and landed nearby, but before Selene could reload the crossbow, he released his Thu'um.

"_Fus...ro dah!"_

The great, thundering force hit Selene full on, and she flew backward. She hit a tree, which knocked the breath out of her lungs. As she gasped for air, she saw that Delphine had been thrown back by the Shout as well and Brynjolf was fighting _Sahloknir_ alone. She reached for her crossbow and reloaded, watching as the dragon snapped at her husband. Brynjolf ducked beneath _Sahloknir's_ great head and drove Chillrend into his throat. The dragon choked and coughed as Brynjolf pulled the sword out and took another swing before he could recover; he must have hit an artery because hot, sticky blood sprayed all over him. The dragon gave one last, defiant howl as his head dropped to the ground.

Chest still aching, Selene dragged herself to her feet and ran to Brynjolf, who stood staring at the dragon. "Are you all right?" she asked, laying a hand on his arm.

"Aye, I'm fine. A little thunderstruck, but I'm okay. I was worried about you."

"I'm okay."

Brynjolf looked past her, and Selene turned around to see Delphine standing behind her. "I'll be damned. You did it! That was well done. Come on. I want a closer look at this bugger."

"'Bugger?'" Selene repeated, insulted. Delphine made it clear that she thought of dragons as nothing more than vermin, and with that, Selene realized she held them in much higher regard. There was no question that they were evil, dangerous, and had to be vanquished. But at the same time, they were regal, intelligent, and powerful; and they didn't deserve to be placed in the same class as a common skeever. And in many ways, she was one of them.

As Delphine neared the dragon, he started to go up in flames. "Wait, something's happening." She watched in awe as flames covered him and Selene, churning and swirling around them both as it burned away scales and organs until nothing was left but the skeleton.

_Sahloknir_ snarled at Selene as his essence entered her mind. _"Aye, go ahead and howl,"_ Selene said in her mind. "_You didn't last five minutes in this life."_

"_Dur hi wah Uradiin, Dovahkiin."_

Selene rolled her eyes.

"What is it?" Brynjolf asked.

"Oh, he just cursed me to Oblivion. I'm used to it."

"Gods above!" Delphine gasped. "So you really are...it's true, isn't it? You really are Dragonborn."

Selene opened her mouth to say something sarcastic, but Brynjolf stopped her with just a look. "Aye, Delphine," she said instead, "I really am."

"I guess I owe you some answers, don't I? Go ahead. Whatever you want to know, nothing held back."

"All right, who are you and what do you want with me?"

"I'm one of the last members of the Blades. A very long time ago, the Blades were dragonslayers, and we served the Dragonborn."

"I know who the Blades are."

"Then you know that since the death of the last Dragonborn emperor, the Blades have been searching for a purpose. Now that dragons are coming back, our purpose is clear."

"I thought the Blades were all gone."

"Most. I'm sure I'm not the only one left, but the few who survived the Great War have scattered to the winds. Perhaps with our renewed purpose, I can start rebuilding the order."

"That's why the Thalmor are after you," Selene guessed. "They killed all the Blades, and you're a loose end."

"Essentially, yes."

"What's our next move?"

"We need to figure out who's behind the dragons. The Thalmor are our best bet at this point."

"Why do you say that?" Brynjolf asked her.

"Think about it. The Empire had captured Ulfric, and the war was basically over. But a dragon attacked just before he was executed, and the war was back on. It may be it's over now, but Skyrim and the Empire are both weakened, and the dragons are only making things worse for us. Who else gains from that but the Thalmor?"

"So we need to find out what the Thalmor know about the dragons."

"I could ask Ulfric if his spies in Solitude know anything," Selene mentioned.

"If we could get into the Thalmor embassy," Delphine said, "it's their center of operations in Skyrim. Problem is that place is locked up tighter than a miser's purse."

"I could get in."

"You say that, but these people could teach _me_ a few things about paranoia."

"Did I mention that I was an operative for Ulfric Stormcloak? Do you think he doesn't already have eyes and ears in the embassy?"

"Fine, you check with him. I also have a few ideas. It will take time to pull things together, though. Meet me back in Riverwood. If I'm not there, wait for me. I shouldn't be long."

"Delphine, there's something else."

"What is it?"

"That dragon, the black one, I've seen him before. He was the one that attacked Helgen. And _Sahloknir_ called him Alduin."

"Alduin?"

"The World Eater."

"Ugh, Divines save us. All right, find out what you can and meet me in Riverwood. And keep an eye on the sky. This is only going to get worse."

She turned to go, and Selene stood and watched until she was out of sight. "You know what irks me?" she grumbled. "When people treat me like I'm either too young, too stupid, or too inexperienced to understand what's going on around me."

Brynjolf shrugged. "You _are_ young, you're petite, and you're beautiful. People see those things as weaknesses and easily underestimate you. As a thief and a mercenary, you know that. You've _used_ it."

"'Keep an eye on the sky.' Is she kidding? I mean who does she think she is?"

"I've never seen you like this. What has she done to make you hate her so?"

"I don't know. She said the Blades served the Dragonborn, but I get the feeling she'd rather have me serving her instead. Look, I know what has to be done, and I'll do it, but I can barely bring myself to tolerate her."

"Well, you're going to have to get past it, because this situation is already a nightmare and your animosity is only making it worse."

"Brynjolf, I do believe you're angry with me."

"I'm not angry. I'm just telling it like it is."

She sighed her resignation. "I'll try," she promised. "Back to Windhelm, then?"

* * *

Selene and Brynjolf went to Ulfric and told him about Kynesgrove, the black dragon, and Delphine's plan to get into the Thalmor embassy.

"The dragon from Helgen is the World Eater," he said softly. "It's difficult to get my head around that. But Delphine believes the Thalmor are behind this?"

"She says the dragons are weakening Skyrim and the Empire," Selene replied.

"But the World Eater puts the Thalmor in danger, too. If I remember correctly from my studies, no one is safe, living or dead."

"Who knows why the Thalmor do what they do?" Brynjolf muttered.

"Indeed. Well, if you're going to the Thalmor embassy, do it before the moot. When I become High King, my first action will be to eject the Thalmor from Skyrim permanently."

"Any ideas on how to get in?" she asked him.

"We have people who can get in and out, but we haven't been able to get someone stationed permanently within the embassy. Talk to Thrand if your friend Delphine—"

"She's not my friend."

Ulfric stopped and gave her an incredulous smile, then chuckled. "All right," he relented. "If _Delphine _can't get you in, Thrand will be able to come up with something."

One of the outer doors opened, and a courier came running toward the throne at full tilt. He stopped next to Selene and Brynjolf, breathing heavily. "My apologies for the interruption, my Jarl," he gasped. He reached into his pocket for a letter and walked toward Ulfric. "This is of the utmost urgency."

Ulfric took the letter and nodded his thanks, and the courier turned and headed back out of the hall. Ulfric opened the note and read, and alarm flooded his scent. His eyes opened wide, and he sat up straight.

"Ulfric? Are you okay?"

The jarl looked over at his steward, who stood a few feet away in his normal spot. "Jorleif, I won't be seeing visitors for the next couple of days."

"Aye, sir."

"Do we need to leave?" Selene asked him.

He shook his head. "You might want to rethink infiltrating the Thalmor embassy for a while. Things just got much more complicated."

"What happened?"

"Emperor Titus Mede was assassinated in Solitude two days ago."

"What! But he wasn't even supposed to be there anymore."

"My sources told me his departure had been delayed for more than a week. They were supposed to leave port yesterday."

"And _someone_ got to him before he left," Brynjolf quipped.

Ulfric looked at Brynjolf sharply. "I assure you this is not my doing. The Katariah stayed in port on the request of a member of a very influential Breton family based in Cyrodiil."

"Will this delay the moot?" Selene asked him.

"Almost assuredly. The implications of this assassination will take weeks, perhaps months, to work through, and while I could do that better as High King, the jarls will want to wait."

"I don't think we can wait that long to get into the embassy," said Brynjolf.

"Then do what you must, but take extra care while you're there. Don't discount the possibility that the Thalmor are to blame for the Emperor's death. Whether they're responsible or not, they'll have extra security at the embassy."

"We'll be careful," Selene promised.

"And if you happen to find anything I can use while you're there, I wouldn't be averse to taking a look. Don't worry, Brynjolf. She'll be well paid for anything she brings me."

* * *

That evening, as Selene and Brynjolf sat by the fire at Candlehearth Hall, he took a sip of his mead and regarded her with a mischievous smirk. "You know, this whole thing with the Emperor just makes the thought of breaking into the Thalmor embassy more exciting."

"After the _Katariah,_ I'm up for most anything. I know Ulfric said to be extra careful, but after this, the embassy is practically begging to be broken into." She sidled up next to him and started combing her fingers through his hair.

"Do you think the Thalmor assassinated him?"

"No, I don't. I don't know anything about his heirs, but I think the Thalmor liked having him in power because they could control him. I don't think they'd want to risk putting someone else on the throne, especially right now when things in Skyrim are so volatile. I don't think they're responsible for the dragons, either, by the way, but it won't hurt to take a look."

"What are you doing?" he asked as she tugged on a lock of hair.

"I'm giving you a war braid."

"Are you serious?"

"You love to say you're not a warrior, but look at all you've done just since we left Riverwood—the three bandits and that saber cat. And then today, I may have gotten in one good shot, but you killed _Sahloknir_."

"You don't like the crossbow, do you?"

"Uh-uh. It's too slow. You could have been killed while I was trying to reload. Unless you want to keep it in the vault, I'm going to sell it and go back to the bow Karliah gave me."

"_Sahloknir_," Brynjolf repeated, barely above a whisper. When finished the braid and tied a leather strap around it, he reached up and trailed his fingers down the length. "It makes me uncomfortable."

"What, the braid? Why?"

"It's something for a—" He stopped and chuckled. "I never planned to be more than a thief."

"You deserve the braid, Brynjolf. You earned it, even before today. I never thought you'd be the type to lack confidence, but sometimes I don't think you like yourself very much."

"I like myself just fine, but I never had any illusions about my station in life and what I was. You make me want to be better. You make me want to be...more."

Selene laid her head on his shoulder. "You're already more," she whispered.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks Mental


	4. The Dragonborn's Tale 4: Soiree

The Dragonborn's Tale 4

Soiree

Selene and Brynjolf arrived at the Sleeping Giant Inn only minutes after Delphine, who was standing at the door, peering down the street and scanning the woods across the river. "I don't believe either of us was followed," she told them, waving them inside. She nodded at Orgnar and proceeded through her room and downstairs to her secret chamber. "Any luck with Ulfric Stormcloak?"

"He has a man in Solitude," Selene replied, "but they don't actually have anybody at the Embassy. I'm sure you've heard about the Emperor by now."

"I have. Things are rather chaotic in Solitude, but we shouldn't wait on this. I've found a way to get you into the embassy, and soon. The Thalmor ambassador, Elenwen, regularly throws parties where the rich and connected cozy up to the Thalmor. She's having one in a week, and I can get you an invitation."

"I probably already have an invitation. I'm a thane of Solitude."

"_You're_ a thane?"

Selene looked up at Brynjolf and placed her hands on her hips. "See what I mean about people underestimating me? Aye, Delphine, I'm a thane. They invite me to all of these things, but obviously I never go."

"Well, you're going to this one. I'm not trying to tell you what you to do; this is just the best way. Once you're inside the embassy, you can get away and find Elewen's secret files."

Brynjolf grunted. "The Emperor is assassinated, and it's business as usual for the Thalmor."

"Fortunately for us."

"This isn't going to work," Selene protested. "There's a reason I don't go to parties at the embassy. I was with Ulfric when he sacked the city. I killed General Tullius personally, for Talos' sake!"

"_You_ killed General Tullius?" Delphine asked incredulously.

Selene didn't reply, just rolled her eyes.

"Just because you're known in Solitude doesn't mean everyone at the party will know you're Stormblade," Brynjolf pointed out. "The Thalmor don't spend much time in Solitude proper, so I doubt they'll recognize you. The others who do know you likely won't say anything. I've infiltrated parties like this before, and it's usually just a bunch of rich drunks clamoring for attention. I doubt anyone will even look at you sideways. Besides, who could imagine that Stormblade would actually show up at a Thalmor party?"

"Jarl Elisif and the other thanes will probably be there, not to mention other jarls."

"All the jarls are Stormcloaks, remember? They won't even be there. Elisif is a trusted friend; she won't rat you out. Erikur won't say anything due his ties with the Guild. And then you have the whole thing with Bryling and Falk Firebeard. This can work, love."

Selene rubbed her temples, trying to fend off a blossoming headache. Delphine was going to get her killed; she just knew it. "All right, say I manage to infiltrate the embassy. Then what?"

"That's when the fun starts," the innkeeper replied. "You'll have to slip away from the party without raising an alarm; then you'll need to find Elenwen's office and search her files."

"I can probably get a floor plan from Ulfric's contact, so that will help."

"Obviously you can't go in armed to the teeth. I can help with that. Ulfric Stormcloak may not have a contact inside the embassy, but I do. He's a wood elf named Malborn. I'll set a meeting with him at two o'clock the day of the party. You won't be able to take anything in with you, so plan on giving Malborn anything you think you'll need when you search the embassy. He'll smuggle them in and help you get away once you're inside. When you're done, get back here as soon as you can. Any other questions?"

"Formal dress, I assume?"

"Aye," Brynjolf answered.

Selene nodded. "All right, then. We'll be in Solitude within the week."

* * *

They arrived in Solitude a day early, and sure enough, an invitation was waiting at her house. It was addressed only to "Selene plus one," and her surname was not mentioned. She imagined the embassy got the list of potential guests from Falk Firebeard, and he was smart enough not to give them that information.

After settling in, Selene went to the Blue Palace to see Thrand, Ulfric's contact.

"Aye, I can get you a map," the operative said. "But you're telling me this glorified innkeeper managed to get a contact inside when we couldn't?"

"Boggles the mind, no?"

"I'm off duty at seven. Meet me at the Winking Skeever, and I'll give you a map of the embassy."

From there, she went to Radiant Raiment and bought an outfit for the occasion. She chose a long, teal dress and a gorgeous purple surcoat with gold trim and buttons. Black would be better if she needed to hide, but one didn't wear black to a formal occasion unless someone had died. She would have to make do, but that didn't mean she couldn't look good while she was at it.

"You look beautiful," Brynjolf said as she posed before him after trying the dress on.

"A perfect fit," Endarie, the Altmer who co-owned the shop with her sister, beamed. "Even if it _is_ off the rack."

"What are you getting?" Selene asked her husband.

Brynjolf shook his head. "I'm not going to the party."

"What? Of course you are."

"Can you two argue _after_ you give me the dress to wrap up?" Endarie asked with a long-suffering sigh.

For all that most of the time Endarie was a raging bitch, Selene actually liked her, and she seemed to like Selene. She had shown off one of their outfits to Elisif once, and evidently the jarl had spent hundreds of septims on new clothes as a result. Now, whenever Selene was in the shop, Endarie and her sister insisted on showing her all their new creations, trying them on her as though she were a paper doll.

Selene stepped into the back, slipped out of her dress and back into her armor, then went out front to wait while Endarie wrapped the dress and surcoat. She stopped at a display shelf on her way and picked up a small handbag that matched the dress, then dropped it on the counter.

"You go in the front door," Brynjolf whispered, "and I'll get in the _easy_ way."

"I don't know if splitting up is such a good idea."

"We'll look at the plans and then decide. If I need to, I'll come back over and pick something up. You won't mind, will you, Endarie?"

The snooty seamstress, who had just returned to the counter, raised her eyebrows and put on a fake smile as she handed Selene the dress. "No, not at all! I'll be sure to drop everything and rush to your aid as soon as you return! It's not as though I have other customers."

"That's what I thought."

"Do you need shoes, my thane?"

"I have a pair of boots that will work," Selene replied.

Endarie rolled her eyes. "Oh, Divines help us."

"You're all heart, Endarie. Just the dress and the bag today."

"Fine. Let's just hope nobody looks at your feet."

* * *

Later that night, the couple sat at the table in the loft and looked over the map Thrand had given them. Not only did it show a detailed floor plan of the embassy, adjoining solar, and yard, it also showed guard positions and notes about their habits and patrol schedules. The Stormcloaks may not have a permanent contact inside the embassy, but they had certainly done their homework on the layout.

"It looks like the main offices and dungeons are in this building," Selene said, pointing at the solar. "That's where we'll need to look. I assume the party will be here, in the embassy ballroom. I'll have to improvise once I get there."

"There's probably a bolt hole through the dungeon. I'll see if I can find it and get in there. Otherwise, I'll climb the wall here."

"What about the guard stationed at the front door of the solar?"

"_I'll_ improvise, too."

* * *

The day of Elenwen's party dawned cold and gloomy, with steel-gray skies threatening snow. The vendors in Solitude's marketplace didn't let the weather bother them, though. The clang of Beirand's hammer at the forge and the voices of the food peddlers rang through the air as Selene and Brynjolf walked toward the Winking Skeever to meet Malborn. A brisk wind blew down the street, and Selene shivered.

"I know I'm a Nord, and I know I've been here for years now, but on days like this, I really miss Cyrodiil."

"Oh, no! I'm not keeping you warm enough! Must be losing my touch." He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her temple.

"That helped."

They stepped into the welcome warmth of the tavern and spotted a Bosmer with brown hair and golden eyes sitting in a corner, looking nervous. They walked up to his table, and Selene sat down. "Are you Malborn?"

"Yes."

"Our mutual friend sent me."

"Really? _You're_ who she picked? I hope she knows what she's doing."

In the main room, Lisette the bard started singing "The Dragonborn Comes." Brynjolf chuckled.

"Here's the deal," Malborn muttered, casting a wary eye at Brynjolf. "I can smuggle some equipment into the embassy for you. Don't plan on bringing anything else in. They take security very seriously, and they're all on high alert since the Emperor was assassinated. They even talked about canceling this event altogether, but the ambassador is entertaining some visiting emissaries and is eager to show off. Give me what you cannot live without, and I'll make sure to get it to the embassy. Once you're in, I can help you slip away. The rest is up to you."

Selene handed Malborn a belt holding a sword and dagger and a knapsack containing a couple of invisibility potions and some lockpicks.

"This isn't much," he noted. His hand shook a bit when he took the belt.

"I shouldn't need much, and I'll need the empty knapsack to store anything I pick up."

"I've got to get back to the embassy. Find me when you get there; I'll be tending bar."

The nervous elf got up and left the Skeever, and Brynjolf sat down across from Selene. "He's an amateur."

"We knew that ahead of time, love."

"Did you see how scared he was? I hope he doesn't turn out to be a liability."

After having a drink and making uncomfortable small talk with Gulum-Ei, they went back to Proudspire Manor. Selene dressed for the party, and at six o'clock they took the path out the Solitude gates and down the hill to the stables, where Selene hired a carriage to take her up to the embassy. Before boarding, she kissed Brynjolf and held his face in her hands, her eyes boring into his. "Promise me you won't do anything foolhardy," she whispered.

"Me? I'm the very soul of caution."

"Last time I heard someone say that, she was running to fight a dragon. Be. Careful."

Brynjolf kissed her forehead. "I will. I love you, wife."

"I love you, too."

Selene boarded the carriage, and the driver started out. It began to snow just as they turned off the main road and headed up the path toward the embassy. It was a beautiful drive through the pines, although the wind whipping through the trees gave her a bitter chill. Or perhaps it was just her apprehension. There were too many variables with this mission. Something would go wrong; she just knew it.

When they reached the top of the hill and rode through the embassy gates, Selene tipped the driver and climbed out of the carriage. A Redguard, who already seemed drunk, rushed up and offered his hand to help her disembark. "Ah, a fellow latecomer! That was quite a trip up the hill, wasn't it? I kept getting lost, or I woulda been here sooner. I usually like to arrive early, preferably the day before, so I don't miss out on all the drinking."

Selene chuckled. "A Redguard who speaks like a Nord."

"Or perhaps the Nords just drink like Redguards. Name's Razelan. And what's your name, lovely lady?"

"I'm Selene."

Razelan offered her his elbow. "Will the lady allow me to escort her inside? Well, at least as far as the guard who will frisk us."

Selene took his elbow, and they approached the Altmer who stood at the gate, his armor polished to a blinding sheen and his cold eyes peering down his nose at them.

"Welcome to the Thalmor embassy. Your invitations, please," he requested in a haughty, highborn voice. Selene reached into her handbag and produced the invitation. The guard looked it over and nodded. "Now if I could see the contents of your bag, please."

"Think she's got a dagger hidden in there?" Razelan quipped.

"I'm just doing my duty, sir."

Selene gave the guard an apologetic smile and opened the bag to show him some face powder, lip stain, and a few gold pieces.

"Thank you, ma'am. Go right in."

She left Razelan to argue with the guard and ascended the stairs, taking a deep breath and swallowing a lump in her throat before opening the door and entering the lion's den.

A tall, blonde Altmer stood in the foyer, the light, floral scent of her perfume permeating the hall. Her golden eyes had gray shadow on them, and the powder on her cheeks was the same color. Selene wondered if anyone had ever told her it made her look like a corpse.

The elf stepped forward. "Welcome! I don't believe we've met. I'm Elenwen, the Thalmor ambassador."

"You're Elenwen? I've heard so much about you." The statement was true. Ulfric had told her all about the emissary, how she had tortured him for weeks, lied to him, and forced secrets from him. In her mind's eye, she could still see the scars on his chest and back. If anyone had asked Selene, she would have said the great Ulfric Stormcloak couldn't be broken. But Elenwen had broken him. And here she stood, smiling at Selene and welcoming her to the party. Blazing heat rose in her cheeks, and she wondered if the ambassador could sense the raw hatred she felt.

"All good, I trust," said the Altmer. "But I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I know nothing about you. What brings you to this...to Skyrim?"

"Madam Ambassador," said a soft voice from around the corner. "I am so sorry to interrupt."

Elenwen rolled her eyes, backed up and looked at the speaker. "What is it, Malborn?"

"It's just that we've run out of the Alto wine. Do I have your permission to uncork the Arenthia red—?"

"Of course! I've told you before not to bother me with such trifles!"

"Yes, Madam Ambassador."

Elenwen turned back to Selene. "My apologies."

"I understand. I have the same problem with my staff."

"Of course. We'll get better acquainted later. Please, enjoy yourself."

"Thank you." Selene stepped past Elenwen into a lavishly decorated ballroom festooned with banners and streamers. Hundreds of candles were set in elaborate chandeliers hanging over the room, their heat ensuring that none of the cold night air would threaten the guests. Food tables piled with delicacies stood in arched nooks at regular intervals, and a handful of servers wandered around handing out drinks and hors d'oeuvres. A bard stood in one corner playing the flute. The room was already crowded, and Selene scanned the crowd to see if she knew anyone. She spotted Elisif, who was talking to Bryling. Erikur was in a corner chatting up a robed Thalmor. She thought she recognized one of the other Thalmor, a handsome, bald Altmer with a snow-white goatee who leaned against a pillar at the edge of the room watching the party disdainfully. Armor-clad guards stood in each of the four corners of the room, one only a couple of feet away from where she stood now.

"Psst."

Selene turned around to see Malborn standing at the bar behind her, and she walked over. "Welcome! What can I get you?"

"I'll have some brandy."

"Of course. Here is some of our finest Colovian brandy." He lowered his voice and said, "You made it in; good. You'll need to cause a distraction. I'll open the door behind me, and we can get you on your way. Let's hope we both live through this night."

"It's going to be all right, Malborn. Just stay calm." She wished she believed it herself. Selene turned away from the bar and wandered around the room with her drink, offering hellos but not stopping to chat until she reached Elisif.

"Well, hello there!" Elisif greeted her. "I admit I'm surprised to see you here."

"Not nearly as surprised as I am." She turned to her fellow thane. "Bryling, would you excuse Elisif and me for just a moment?"

"Surely," Bryling replied amicably before moseying across the room.

"What's wrong?" Elisif asked her.

"Can I trust you, Elisif? I mean _really_ trust you?"

"Of course. What do you need?"

"I need you to cause a scene. Get everyone's attention for a few minutes."

The jarl scowled at her. "What are you up to? Is it Guild business?"

Selene shook her head. "No. This is serious—_very_ serious—and I need you to trust me."

"Oh, all right. If it's that important to you, I'll be glad to help."

Selene backed away and slowly moved toward the bar. Elisif crossed the room and stood near the bench where Razelan sat. The jarl didn't make a move or sound for a moment, but then her mouth dropped open. "What! Do you know who I am? I should have you taken up and flogged!"

"What? Of course I know who you are. I didn't mean to suggest—that is, I don't remember even saying anything..."

People started to gather around the pair, and even the guards turned their attention to Elisif as she berated the drunken Redguard. "There's no excuse for your behavior! You act like you're carousing in a house of ill repute, not the residence of the Thalmor ambassador."

"My jarl, I am shocked at such a suggestion! Just because they're unaccustomed to manners, courtesy, and extended vocabulary doesn't mean they're unable to appreciate them."

With that, Elenwen started yelling at Razelan as well. When no one was looking, Selene ducked behind the bar.

"Let's go before anyone notices us," Malborn whispered as he opened the door. Elisif and the ambassador were still haranguing the poor Redguard when Selene followed Malborn out of the ballroom and closed the door behind her.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	5. The Dragonborn's Tale 5: Search & Rescue

The Dragonborn's Tale 5

Search and Rescue

Selene followed Malborn through the kitchen, where he had a brief discussion with the Khajiiti cook, who complained about him bringing a stranger in. After threatening to tell Elenwen about the cook's moon sugar habit, she relented and he led Selene to a larder.

"Your gear is in that box," he said, pointing to a chest in the corner. "Are you going to sneak around the embassy in your dress?"

"Unless you want me to do it naked."

For a brief second, Selene thought Malborn was going to smile, but the elf suddenly remembered his terror and the grimace returned to his face. "Through that door. I'll lock it behind you."

Selene put the sword belt on and shrugged into the pack's shoulder straps. She stepped from the larder into a hallway, and Malborn shut and locked the door behind her. She was on her own. One door stood to the left, opening onto a lounge, if she remembered right from the plans. A storeroom waited at the end of the hall. The scents of two Altmer lingered just inside the room to her left. They confirmed her assumption when they began speaking.

"Did you see those robes march in this morning? Who are they with? More of the embassy's treaty enforcers?"

"No, they're high mages, just in from Alinor. I guess Herself is finally getting worried about all the dragon attacks."

_Herself._ Maybe _everybody_ hated Elenwen as much as she did.

The elves continued talking as she snuck past the door, expounding on their fear of dragons and their hatred of mages. The room at the end of the hall didn't have much in it, just a set of Thalmor robes. She thought about putting them on for cover, but her small stature and lack of pointy ears would give her away anyway, so she didn't bother.

By the time she got back to the lounge, the two elves were patrolling. She drank an invisibility potion and entered the room, then slipped past the guards and went upstairs. Trouble waited at the end of the hall, though. A Thalmor mage stood where two hallways crossed and formed a T. His back was to her, but the hallway was narrow and there was very little chance she would get past him. She was going to have to kill him. Drawing her dagger as quietly as possible, she stole up behind him and buried it in the base of his skull. With nothing more than a small hiccough, he dropped to the floor with a thud, and Selene quickly removed her dagger and hid around the corner. Confident after a few minutes that the two guards downstairs hadn't heard, she continued on.

Upstairs was a residence with a couple of bedrooms, and other than a few gems and some gold, she didn't turn up much. She didn't expect much here, though. These were only guest rooms. Her objective here was to find the outside door, which opened off of a sitting room. She placed her ear to the door, but there was nothing to be heard through the heavy oak, so she slowly opened the door and stepped outside to the wall.

The plans had said one guard would be on the wall between her and the solar and that he or she walked down into the courtyard periodically. The only problem Selene saw getting past the guard was footprints. The snow had piled up a bit since she had arrived at the party, and even an invisibility potion wouldn't hide her prints. She ducked just around the corner from the guard, trying to figure out what she was going to do, when suddenly the elf made a choking sound. Selene peered around the corner to see Brynjolf standing behind him, his dagger at his throat and blood spurting all over the place. Selene stepped out where her husband could see her, and he smiled and waved as he dropped the elf to the ground.

"How did you get in?" she whispered.

"Over the wall. I doubt we're going to be able to keep this a secret for long, though, because this is the second guard I had to kill."

"Let's not waste any time, then."

Less worried about footprints now that the guard was taken care of, they were still cautious as they made their way across the yard, using the cover of decorative trees and rocks in case the guard schedule changed. The last obstacle before they entered the solar was the guard at the entrance. This elf stood mere inches from the door, his arms folded and a grim expression on his face as Selene and Brynjolf knelt around the corner.

Brynjolf looked at Selene and shrugged helplessly, but she made an OK sign with her hand, drew her sword, and took a breath for a Shout. _"Zul may gut!"_ she Shouted, but that wasn't what the guard—or Brynjolf, for that matter—heard. Across the courtyard, near the main building, a voice rang out. "Hey, skeever breath! Over here!"

"What the—" the guard muttered, and he took a step forward, leaving his back open. Brynjolf stepped out from behind the building and lunged for him, but the guard heard him and turned around. "You dare!" the guard cried, raising his hand to throw a spell at him.

Selene circled around behind the elf and swung as Brynjolf dodged the firebolt. The blade caught the Thalmor in the side, and he grunted with pain and whirled around, giving Brynjolf the opportunity to flank him and attack with Chillrend. When the blade hit, the mage's eyes flew open wide and he froze in place, only to fall backward and crash to the ground. Paralyzed, he peered up in Selene in terror as she planted her blade in his chest.

"That paralysis enchantment doesn't work nearly often enough," Brynjolf whispered.

They entered a lavishly decorated common area with comfortable seating, a bar, and a doorway leading off to a kitchen on the right. Elenwen's office stood through a doorway on the left. Stairs to the second floor led off the back, and just to the left of the stairs was an assistant's nook. A guard stood at the base of the stairs with her back to them. In the office, two individuals were in the middle of a conversation.

"But what about my money? I do have expenses, you know."

"Do not presume, Gissur. We have other informants who are less...offensive."

"But no one else has brought you such valuable information, have they? Etienne, he's talked, hasn't he? He knows where the old man is. He told me himself."

_Etienne?_ Brynjolf mouthed at Selene.

Etienne Rarnis was a thief with the Guild who had gone missing several weeks ago. The younger membership of the Thieves Guild was pretty fluid, and they just assumed he had moved on to other opportunities. It couldn't be him. Surely there was more than one Etienne in Skyrim.

"You'll get the rest of your money when we confirm his story," Gissur's companion said. "As agreed."

"So he _has_ talked. I knew it!"

"Everyone talks in the end. Now, leave me to my work if you ever want to see the rest of your payment."

"Can I...I could help you. He'd talk to me. He trusts me."

"So you'd like to come downstairs with me, Gissur? Shall we loose his bonds and put you in the cell together?"

"No, no, I'll...I'll wait outside."

"That would probably be best. Now, get out!"

Gissur stalked into the common room while the other walked out a second door and, by the sound of his footsteps, went downstairs. Gissur saw Selene and Brynjolf the moment he entered the room. "Hey!" he cried. "What are you doing here?"

The guard turned around, drew her weapon, and charged. Selene drew her sword and dagger and stepped forward, engaging the elf while Brynjolf chased after Gissur, who fled into the assistant's cubicle. Selene and the guard danced for a few moments, trading strikes and blocks. Selene swung wide with her sword, and the elf, thinking she had made a grievous error, lunged past the weapon; but Selene turned to the side so the blade passed harmlessly through the air and drove her dagger up through the guard's chin, through the roof of her mouth, and into her brain. The guard didn't even have time to squeal before the light left her eyes.

Selene withdrew her dagger and smiled grimly. Vilkas had taught her that move. He'd be so proud.

In the assistant's nook, Brynjolf was just finishing Gissur off. When Selene arrived, she saw that the Nord had died with a look of horror on his face. She shook her head and tutted. "A Nord helping the Thalmor," she whispered. "Asshole deserved to die."

Selene searched the room while Brynjolf looted Gissur's body, and she hit the motherlode. She found Thalmor dossiers on Delphine and Ulfric, as well as a note to Elenwen from someone named Rulindil about the dragon investigation. The note suggested that the Thalmor were just as much in the dark about the dragons as they were but were on the trail of a lead. Like Delphine, they had discerned that the dragons were being resurrected. They had captured someone—Etienne, Selene guessed—who knew where to find an old man named Esbern and were currently interrogating him. Apparently, Esbern could help get to the bottom of the dragons' return.

She paged through the dossiers on Delphine and Ulfric. They evidently still thought of Ulfric as an asset, albeit a hostile one. They also suspected he was behind the Emperor's assassination, placing him further in their good graces. _He'll be so delighted,_ she thought sarcastically. There was no way to hide the fact that they had been there, what with her disappearance from the party and all the dead guards, so instead of making copies, Selene took the files and note. In the desk, she found a key that was tagged with the words _Interrogation Chamber._ She handed the key to her husband, who stuck it in his pocket. It might come in handy later.

She didn't turn up any more in the assistant's office, so they went upstairs. There were only bedrooms up there, but in one of them—Elenwen's room, by the scents—was a safe, where they recovered a hefty amount of gold, gems, and jewels. There was a fantastic set of daedric armor, too, but there was no way they could sneak around with the heavy ebony suit, so they left it behind and headed back downstairs.

In Elenwen's office, Brynjolf broke open a display case containing some circlets and daggers while Selene searched the ambassador's desk. She found a few notes and memos about the dragon investigation and the assassination, including a copy of a letter to her supervisor in Alinor indicating again that she thought Ulfric was responsible for the murder and discussing strategies for dealing with Titus Mede III, who now sat on the Imperial Throne. The letter also mentioned the plan to "replace" Elisif and regain their foothold in Solitude.

Selene's heart wrenched at the comment about Elisif. The jarl was in the embassy right now, enjoying herself at the party. What if they decided to do something while she was there? Selene wouldn't be able to save her. Thus, she did the only thing she could do at the moment. She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to Kynareth, asking her to protect the jarl. Then she stuffed all the information in her pack, and once she was satisfied she had everything, she nodded at Brynjolf.

The pair went out the second door and downstairs to the dungeon. The door was locked, and Brynjolf tried the key they had found. The door opened easily and swung inward, and they emerged onto a mezzanine level above the dungeon. An elf in the standard guard armor was standing inside a cell, pounding on a prisoner with a hammer while someone in Thalmor robes sat at a desk outside and wrote in a journal. The prisoner screamed in agony as the blows landed.

"Stop, please! I don't know anything else. Don't you think I'd have told you already?"

Brynjolf pointed to himself and the Thalmor taking notes, and Selene nodded. They crept down the stairs, Brynjolf moving into the shadows to the right and Selene to the left as the torturer spoke.

"Silence. You know the rules. Do not speak unless spoken to. Master Rulindil will ask the questions."

"Let's begin again," Rulindil ordered.

"No...for pity's sake, I've already told you everything." Selene thought she recognized the voice. Perhaps it _was_ their Etienne.

"You know the rules," said the guard as he swung the hammer.

"No!" Etienne cried as the weapon landed with a _thwack._

"Let's start at the beginning as usual," Rulindil said again. Etienne didn't answer right away, and the Thalmor bristled. "If you persist in this stubbornness, I'll have–"

"No, wait! I was just...catching my breath. Why wouldn't I tell you again? There's an old man. He lives in Riften. He could be this Esbern you're looking for, but I don't know. He's old and seemed kind of crazy. That's all I know."

"And his name is..."

"I don't know his name. Like I've already told you a hundred—"

The torturer hit him again, and he wailed. Selene was at the cell door by now, and Brynjolf was in place behind Rulindil. She nodded to him and slipped into the cell, where she snuck up behind the torturer and swung her sword hard, hoping to decapitate him. While his head remained intact, blood gushed from his neck as he died and dropped to the floor.

It sounded like Brynjolf was having a harder time of it. Rulindil hadn't died with Brynjolf's blow and had turned and hurled a lightning bolt at him, then fled to the other side of the dungeon. "You're dead!" he snarled. "Don't you see? Elven supremacy is the only truth."

Selene started out of the cell, but Brynjolf said, "I've got this. Go help Etienne."

She went back and knelt before the prisoner. It was indeed Etienne from the Guild. He had been one of several who had propositioned her when she had first joined up. He was a handsome Breton, a couple of years younger than she was, blond and hazel-eyed, with an easy smile and a quick wink. But now he was a shell of his former self, emaciated, bruised, and bloody, his hair matted and filthy. His scent didn't indicate any infection, but he was weak and sickly. She raised his chin to look at his face.

"I told you," he said wearily, his eyes bleary and unfocused. "I don't know anything else."

"I'm not here to torture you, Etienne. It's me. Selene."

His eyes cleared and he looked at Selene just as she heard Brynjolf deliver the final blow to Rulindil. "What? How...what are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you." She opened the shackles, and he dropped to the floor.

Brynjolf came into the cell and knelt before them. Etienne looked up at him with confusion. "Where did you two come from?"

"We were looking for something not related to the Guild," she replied.

"I'm glad you happened upon me, then."

"Why were they interrogating you, lad?" Brynjolf asked him. "Do they think you know something?"

"They're after some old guy named Esbern. Something to do with dragons. I gathered it from listening to them when I was out. I've seen a guy in Riften who they seem to think is him. Not much to go on. I don't even know where he lives or his name, but they seemed pretty excited about it."

"You're not talking about the old codger who hides down in the vaults are you?"

"That doesn't sound familiar to me," Selene remarked.

"I'm not surprised. If it's the same guy, he's scared of his own shadow. He comes into the Flagon sometimes for supplies, but he won't talk to anyone but Vekel. As soon as he has what he needs, he runs back to his hidey hole."

"He's the one," Etienne confirmed. "Let's get out of here," he said as they helped him up and out of the cell.

"Hold on a sec," said Brynjolf. "There's a chest by the table. I'm going to check it out." He opened the chest to find a dossier similar to those Selene found, this one on Esbern. The chest was otherwise empty. He handed the file to Selene, who put it in her pack with the others. "All right, let's go."

"Come this way." Etienne led them down the hall and stopped at a trapdoor. "I've seen the guards use it to get rid of bodies. It must lead somewhere."

Before Brynjolf could lift the hatch, a door slammed on the mezzanine and three people came into the dungeon. On closer inspection, Selene realized it was two Thalmor guards and Malborn. They were pushing him down the stairs toward the dungeon.

"We have your accomplice," one of them called out as they ambled down the stairs. While their vision was blocked in the stairwell, Etienne ducked in a corner and Selene and Brynjolf spread out to flank the doorway where they would emerge. "Come out now, or he dies."

_Oh, like they're going to let him live anyway,_ Selene thought.

Malborn was the first through the door, followed by the two Thalmor. Selene took one, and Brynjolf took the other. Malborn shrieked and darted out of the way as the fight ensued. Brynjolf killed his guard in one blow; but the one Selene fought was quick and vicious, and he landed a blow to Selene's side, shredding her dress and laying a nasty gash in her unarmored skin. Ignoring the pain, Selene turned to the side, causing the elf's sword to get tangled in her surcoat. While he was distracted, she swung; but the sword bounced off of his armor and the shock radiated up her arm.

"Gods, damn it!" she growled, growing impatient. At the first sign of anger, her wolf spirit raised its head, but she forced it back. She raised her sword to block the guard's blade and reset for another blow, but Brynjolf stepped up behind the elf and drove Chillrend into his back. With a painful _oof,_ the guard fell to the floor and perished. "I never want to see another Thalmor for the rest of my life," she grumbled.

Brynjolf knelt before her and ripped a larger hole in her dress to examine her wound. Although it bled freely, it wasn't life threatening. He started to reach in his pack for the first aid supplies he had thought to bring when she hadn't, but she raised a hand to stop him.

"We don't have time to stitch me up right now. I doubt we have more than a few minutes before we're discovered."

Brynjolf nodded reluctantly, then went to Rulindil, removed his armor, gloves, and boots and gave them to Etienne, who wore only a pair of ragged trousers. "Put these on," he told him. "It's not the best choice of fashion, but at least you won't freeze to death." When Etienne was dressed, Brynjolf pulled the handle on the trapdoor and dropped down into the tunnel below.

"Stay behind us," Selene instructed their charges as they made their way through the tunnel. The stench was bad for the others, but to Selene's enhanced nose, it was almost overwhelming. The acrid odors of feces, vomit, and rot permeated the air, and it was all Selene could do not to retch. They came to a sudden dropoff, which led to a cave only six or eight feet below. Grunts and growls emanated from the caveern; it seemed a troll had made its home there. They drew their weapons and leapt to the lower level, flanking the troll and making short work of it. "It's safe," she called, and Malborn and Etienne jumped down with them.

In a niche, Selene found a dead elf and searched his satchel, from which she retrieved one of the ugly, pink gems she turned up every once in a while. Vex said they were part of Queen Barenziah's crown. Alone, they were worthless, but if she found all twenty-four of them, they might actually have some value. Selene didn't think she'd ever find all twenty-four, but she picked up the gem and stuffed it in her pack anyway. This made five. No, six. Who knew? It could happen.

After navigating several hundred yards of tunnels, they finally reached the outside, emerging at the top of a hill with the road visible a quarter-mile below and breathed a sigh of relief. Except for Malborn, that is.

"Now the Thalmor will be hunting me for the rest of my life. I hope it was worth it. I should have known this would end badly. I can't believe I let Delphine talk me into this."

"I'm in your debt, Malborn. If there's ever anything I can do, just ask."

He made his way down the hill toward the road, grumbling and complaining.

Etienne, however, was more than grateful. "I don't know how to thank you for getting me out of there."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find something for you to do," the Guild Master teased. "For now, let's get you back to Proudspire and put you on the road to recovery."

"Do you think it's safe to go into Solitude right now?" Brynjolf asked her.

"Maybe not, but Etienne can't make it all the way to Riverwood like this, and I need my gear. We'll have to take the chance."

They made it into the city without trouble from the Thalmor, but the Stormcloak guard ushered them into a guard shack as soon as they walked through the gates. "The Thalmor embassy was busted tonight," he told Selene. "It was you, Stormblade, wasn't it?"

"It was me," she confirmed with a nod.

"They're scouring the town for you."

"I need to get back to Proudspire Manor to get my gear and patch my man up."

"I wouldn't risk it. I can help with the first aid. We have supplies right here in the shack."

"It's not a matter of first aid. He's been tortured for weeks by the Thalmor—"

"I'm all right," Etienne assured her. "If the Thalmor are looking for us, we shouldn't stay in Solitude any longer than we have to. I can make it at least as far as Morthal. Please. I don't want to risk going back to that dungeon.

"All right. Brynjolf, you say with Etienne, and I'll go to the house and get my stuff. I'll only be gone fifteen minutes, I promise."

"I don't think so," Brynjolf protested.

"Any other ideas?"

"_I_ can go."

Selene glared at her husband. "You're kidding, right? Do I look like a damsel in distress?"

"No, you're a damsel in _a dress,_ one the Thalmor have seen, and you're injured. I can melt into the shadows."

The guard chuckled. "Damsel in a dress. That was funny. Stormblade, I can treat your wound while he goes to your house."

"Damn it," Selene muttered, knowing Brynjolf was right. "Okay. Fifteen minutes, and if you're not back, I'm coming after you."

Brynjolf left the shack, and Selene turned to the guard. "What's your name?"

"It's Arwin, milady."

"Well, Arwin, you're about to see more of me than you probably ever thought you would. Be kind and not pass the story around the barracks, would you?" With that, she took off her surcoat and pulled her dress over her head, then put the surcoat back on to take advantage of what little warmth it would provide. Etienne sat down and leaned against the wall, basically ignoring them, but Arwin looked embarrassed. "There's nothing for it," she said as she stood there in the coat and her small clothes, shivering. "Just stitch my side up as quickly as you can, and hopefully Brynjolf will be back with my armor by then."

It took Brynjolf longer than they had anticipated. Arwin had finished stitching Selene's side and she was preparing to go after him when he stepped into the shack with her armor, bow, arrows, and favorite knapsack. He also brought an extra set of Guild armor, dried beef, an apple, part of a loaf of bread and a bottle of mead for Etienne.

Selene threw her arms around his neck. "Cuttin' it kinda close, no?"

"I had to sneak past a couple of Thalmor soldiers right outside the house. Took me an extra couple of minutes. Plus, I stopped at the Skeever and bought some food for Etienne. Thought he might need some sustenance if we're going to be traveling."

She donned her armor while Etienne did the same, discarding the Thalmor robes and her ruined dress in a barrel. Selene placed a hand on the guard's arm. "Arwin, thank you. I don't think I need to tell you that you never saw us."

He shook his head. "Go. Talos guide you."

Etienne followed Selene and Brynjolf to the gate, where they stepped through and disappeared into the night.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	6. The Dragonborn's Tale 6: Esbern

The Dragonborn's Tale 6

Esbern

Although Etienne did his best to keep up, he slowed the group down and they didn't arrive in Riverwood for nearly a week. Selene and Brynjolf didn't mind, but Delphine was put out. When they entered the inn, she stood with arms folded, glaring at them.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming back," she scolded them.

Brynjolf nodded at Etienne. "We had an injured man," he replied unapologetically.

The innkeeper looked over Etienne critically. "Can we trust him?"

"Aye," said Selene, "but we'll leave him up here anyway." She handed the thief a handful of gold pieces. "Get yourself a drink, and we'll be back in a while."

"Thanks, Selene."

Etienne went to the bar, and Selene and Brynjolf followed Delphine to her secret room in the cellar. "Did you learn anything useful?" she asked after they had shut the false back panel of her wardrobe.

Selene nodded. "The Thalmor don't know anything about the dragons."

"Really. I find that hard to believe."

"Damn it, Delphine, if you weren't going to believe what I said, why did you send me in the first place?"

"You're right, you're right. I was just so sure."

"Well, they're on the trail, too. They're looking for someone named Esbern."

Delphine's face lit up. "Esbern! He's alive? I thought he was long gone. It figures the Thalmor would be looking for him. He was one of the Blades' archivists, and he was obsessed with dragon lore. He was always talking about prophecy, the dragons returning, and the World Eater. Nobody paid him much attention, but maybe he wasn't as crazy as we all thought."

"We think he may be in Riften."

"Down in the Ratway? I'm surprised you never ran into him."

"I have," Brynjolf said. "At least I _think_ it's him. We're going there to find out."

"If it's him, you'll probably have trouble getting him to trust you. If you think _I'm_ paranoid, just wait. Ask him where he was on the 30th of Frostfall if he gives you any problems. He'll know what it means."

"Just so you know, we'll be an extra couple of days getting to Riften," Selene informed her. "We have to go by way of Windhelm. Oh, that reminds me." She reached in her pack and pulled out the Thalmor dossier on Delphine. "You might want this."

The innkeeper took the file and read through it. She smiled as she perused the dossier, which painted her as extremely dangerous and to be approached only with overwhelming force. "They think quite a lot of me, don't they?"

"Just don't let it go to your head. We'll get to Riften as soon as we can and see if this man is Esbern. If it's him, we'll bring him back here. If not, I'll just send you a letter and we'll figure out what our next step is."

"Do you need rooms for the night?"

"Aye. We'll head out in the morning."

* * *

They arrived in Windhelm mid-morning a few days later, and they only planned to stay long enough to talk to Ulfric before getting back on the road. After leaving Etienne at Candlehearth Hall, Selene and Brynjolf made their way to the palace, and Selene handed over the file. Ulfric's face reddened as he read.

"'Direct contact remains a possibility under extreme circumstances,'" he muttered. "Is Elenwen out of her mind?"

"I know you wouldn't willingly help the Thalmor," Selene said softly.

He looked up at her sharply. "Never," he snarled, and then his expression softened. "However, this kind of knowledge opens the way to all sorts of possibilities, no?"

"Hopefully you can get some use out of it."

"I will. Be sure of that." Ulfric closed the file and regarded her for a moment before speaking again. He finally said, "Selene, I want you to be with me in Solitude for the moot."

"What? Why do you want me there? And why didn't you say something before?"

"All the jarls bring a second. I had thought to take Galmar because of our...awkward situation, but the truth is you deserve to be there."

Selene looked over at Brynjolf, who simply shrugged. "It's a great honor, Ulfric, but now that I've angered the Thalmor, I don't know if being in the public eye in Solitude is such a good idea."

"You'll be protected; you know that."

"Besides that, I don't know where this dragon investigation is going to take me. I might not even be alive by then."

"Don't even think that," Brynjolf pleaded softly.

"You'll be alive," Ulfric replied stubbornly. "And you'll be at my side. Say yes."

Again, she looked at her husband, who nodded. "It _is_ a great honor."

"And you're okay with...Ulfric?"

"What, do you think I won't go, too?"

Ulfric chuckled.

"Okay, when?"

"That is still undetermined. I've spoken to the other jarls, and they want you at the moot as well. We all agree that the dragon investigation is your top priority, so I may be able to get them to hold off until you're ready."

"All right," Selene relented. "I'll go if I'm able. But if I don't solve this, it might not matter who's High King."

* * *

Etienne, back to full strength by the time they arrived in Riften, was thrilled to be home. So was Selene, if only for a brief time. If they found Esbern, they probably wouldn't stay in town more than a day or two. She spent the day they arrived in the bathtub and in bed with Brynjolf, and the next morning they packed for the trip they would be taking if they found Esbern and went to the marketplace to trade.

Selene saw an unfamiliar face wandering around the plaza, one that didn't appear to just be passing through. The attractive Khajiit wore a dress and carried only a small pack, as though she had just left her home for a trip to the market. She knew most of the Khajiit from the trading caravans, but this one didn't look familiar. Thinking she might have a new neighbor and glad that Jarl Laila had finally begun letting the cats enter the city, she went up and said hello.

The Khajiit hissed at her. "_Pfft!_ Leave me alone if you know what's good for you." She turned and sashayed away, her tail flicking behind her.

"Welcome to Riften, bitch," Selene muttered.

"Ah, that's the woman I love," Brynjolf said wistfully. "She makes friends so easily."

"Hey, I tried. Let's go to the Ratway."

Selene went to the Cistern, talked to Delvin, and looked through logs and papers to see how the Guild had fared while she was gone while Brynjolf went to the Flagon to talk to Vekel about the old man in the Ratway. With the exception of a few young footpads trying to cause a stir, everything was running smoothly.

"One or two of them got outta line," Delvin said, "and Rune and Thrynn showed 'em what's what. I didn't even hafta step in. Although Vex did warn them that if they caused trouble again, she'd rip them a new arsehole. Otherwise, the coin's pourin' in."

"It's as though you don't even need me."

"Don't get me wrong, boss. I'm just as glad to hand the reins over to you when you get home. So how long you here for this time?"

"It depends. We're looking for somebody who might be living in the Ratway. If he turns up, we'll probably leave right away."

"Who is it you're looking for?"

"An old man, kind of crazy."

"Oh, yeah, I know him. Can't tell you where he goes, though. Just that he comes into the Flagon every now and then."

Brynjolf came across the cistern toward the desk. "I can tell you. Vekel says he lives down in the Warrens. Comes in for supplies and pays the Guild a lot of coin to keep it quiet."

"Great."

"Aye, that's the good news."

"What's the bad?"

"The Thalmor have been here. Poor Etienne was in the Flagon when Vekel told me. I thought he was going to run screaming, but he kept it together. Brave kid."

"Etienne," Delvin repeated, "is that where he was? The Thalmor had him?"

Selene nodded. "They're looking for the old guy, too. But Vekel said he thought it was him?"

"Aye."

"To the Ratway, then."

"Be careful," Delvin warned them with a sly grin. "There's a lot of lowlifes in the Ratway."

Selene chuckled. "I know that. He already said the Thalmor were in there."

They went to the door behind the Flagon that led to the Ratway Vaults, and Selene drew her bow and Brynjolf his sword before opening it and stepping through. It was a good thing they did, because the first thing they saw when they entered was a Thalmor wizard, standing in the doorway across the sunken courtyard. Another stood behind a grate on one of the lower levels. The ambient odors of the Ratway were too strong and the Thalmor were spread out, so she couldn't get a good picture of their numbers and locations by her sense of smell; but she had no illusions that these were the only two.

Selene nocked an arrow and shot the Thalmor, who cried out and dropped instantly, alerting the others. The elf on the lower level started moving through the tunnels toward their position as Selene and Brynjolf charged into the courtyard. Brynjolf ran his sword through the wizard to ensure that he was dead, and they continued on, only to be stopped by a tripwire across the doorway to the next room. Selene nodded at Brynjolf and stepped back. He sliced the wire and ducked out of the way as two spiked, iron spheres swung down from the ceiling and crashed into each other; then they stepped past and entered the room.

As they navigated the channels of the Vaults, they encountered three more Thalmor. Selene and Brynjolf knew their way around the Ratway while the elves did not, and they dispatched them with no trouble. Before long, they stood before a heavy door that led deeper into the passages of the Warrens. All the way at the back, after sneaking past several vagrants and one crazy chef who wanted to eat them for dinner, they found a heavy, iron door with a sliding peephole.

Selene knocked on the door.

The slide opened, and an old man peered out. "Go away!"

"Esbern? Open the door. We're friends."

"What? No, that's not me. I'm not Esbern. You have me mistaken."

"Delphine sent us."

"Delphine?" He sighed dejectedly. "So you've finally found her and led her to me. And here I am, caught like a rat in a trap."

"No, no, we really are friends, and we need your help. She said to ask where you were on the 30th of Frostfall."

Esbern gazed at her for a long moment before nodding. "You'd better come in and tell me how you found me. And what you want." He closed the sliding door and, by the sound, proceeded to open a series of locks. After half a dozen clicks and clangs, he said, "this one always sticks. There we go." Click. Clang. The rattle of a chain. "Only a couple more."

He finally opened the door. "Come in, come in."

Selene and Brynjolf stepped in, and Esbern closed the door behind him. The room was fairly small, with a bed, desk, lots of shelves, and a cooking pot in the corner. The place was piled high with books. A look at the back of the door showed that he did indeed have an impossible number of locks. Delphine was right: he _was_ paranoid.

"I'm Selene," she said. "This is my husband, Brynjolf."

Esbern looked at Brynjolf. "I've seen you before in the Ragged Flagon, no?"

"Aye," Brynjolf replied with a nod.

"So Delphine keeps up the fight after all these years. I thought she'd have realized it's hopeless by now."

"What do you mean, 'it's hopeless'?" Selene asked.

"Haven't you figured it out yet? What more needs to happen before you all wake up and see what's going on? Alduin has returned just like the prophecy said. No one can escape his hunger, here or in the afterlife. Alduin will devour all things and the world will end."

"Wait," Brynjolf interrupted. "You're talking about the literal end of the world?"

"Oh, yes. It's all been foretold. I tried to tell them, but they wouldn't listen. All there is to do now is sit back and watch our doom approach."

"I don't hold to that," Selene declared. "There has to be something. I wasn't put here just to watch."

"I'm afraid only a Dragonborn can stop him, and no Dragonborn has been known for centuries. The gods have grown tired of us and left us to our fate as the plaything of the World Eater."

Brynjolf shook his head. "You're wrong, old man. Selene is the Dragonborn."

Esbern's eyes widened. "What? You are...can it be true? Then there is hope. The gods have not abandoned us after all. We must...we must..." He practically jumped. "We must go! Take me to Delphine." He started puttering around the room, picking through his possessions and stuffing things into a backpack. "Give me...just a moment. I must gather a few things...no, that's just useless junk. What? I thought I threw that out years ago. Now, where did I put that annotated annuad?" He finally closed the pack and shrugged into it. "I'm ready. Let's go. Quickly."

Selene and Brynjolf led him back through the Warrens and Vaults to the Ragged Flagon, where he gave Vekel several hundred gold pieces for his service. After Selene informed Delvin they were leaving again, they left through the Ratway entrance. As they began to turn a corner, Selene picked up a familiar scent. The Khajiit she had spoken to in the plaza was just outside the next doorway, and her scent was laced with malice. She and Brynjolf drew their swords and stepped through.

"Die, Blades scum!" the Khajiit cried as she attacked, stabbing at Selene with a dagger. But Selene was ready and dodged the blade, swinging her sword and practically slicing the cat's arm off. Brynjolf caught her from behind and impaled her on Chillrend.

When she fell dead, Selene searched her and found a note from someone named "E." She had seen enough of that handwriting to recognize it easily; it was Elenwen's. "Seems Elenwen wants me dead."

"I wonder why," Brynjolf said mildly.

"I can't fathom."

* * *

Selene and Brynjolf got to know Esbern on the trip to Riverwood and adored him. He did seem a bit crazy, but it didn't take long to realize that although he might be eccentric, he still had all his faculties. His knowledge base was immense, and he regaled them with many stories about the Blades, the Empire, dragon lore, and anything else that struck his fancy. He also knew, however, when to keep his mouth shut, and he was an excellent battle mage.

"It seems I remember my old training," he bragged as he helped take out a group of bandits with fireballs and a flame atronach.

When they arrived at the Sleeping Giant Inn, Delphine practically ran into his arms.

"Delphine!" the old man sobbed as he held her. "It's good to see you. It's been a long time."

She pulled back and regarded him with a tear in her eye. "It's good to see you too, Esbern. It's been too long, old friend. Too long. Come on. I have a place we can talk." She led them to the secret room, and Brynjolf closed the door behind them. "Now then, Esbern, I assume you know about..." She nodded toward Selene.

"Oh, yes, Dragonborn! Indeed. This changes everything, of course. There's no time to lose. We must locate...let me show you." He dug around in his pack. "Hmm, I know I had it here somewhere."

"Esbern," Delphine moaned impatiently.

"Give me just a moment. Ah, here it is." He pulled out a book and laid in the table, opening it to a page with a map and a drawing of a temple. "Here. Sky Haven Temple."

"Do you know what he's talking about?" Delphine asked Selene.

"Why don't you let him talk, and maybe he'll tell us."

"Alduin's Wall," he announced. "One of the lost secrets of the Blades, where they recorded all they knew of Alduin and his return. Its location has been lost for centuries. The Blades archives hold so many secrets, I was only able to save a few scraps when I escaped; but I've managed to find it. I believe Alduin's Wall is our best hope in finding a way to defeat the World Eater."

"And you think the wall is in Sky Haven Temple?"

"Oh, yes."

"How do we get there?"

"The temple was built around one of the main Akaviri military camps in The Reach. The entrance seems to be near what's now known as the Karthspire. I cannot wait to see what we find when we arrive."

"I can tell you what we'll find: Forsworn."

"No big challenge," Brynjolf remarked.

"You're right, especially with four of us."

Delphine smiled. "I knew you'd have something for us, Esbern. We should leave as soon as possible."

"I wouldn't mind having a night to rest," said Brynjolf.

"Aye," Selene agreed. "We've been on the road for days. Let's spend the night here and stock up on supplies before we head out."

"If you're sure," Delphine said reluctantly.

"You can leave now if you want. That way, by the time we get there, the Forsworn will already be out of the way."

"Selene," Brynjolf admonished.

"Sorry."

* * *

They stayed at the inn overnight and packed up to the leave the next morning, stopping at the Riverwood Trader and Alvor's to stock up on potions, first aid supplies, and arrows. Orgnar provided food and drink for the trip.

"Orgnar, this is it," Delphine finally announced. "The inn is yours. I'm probably never coming back here."

The barkeep paled just a bit, and his face fell. Sadness permeated his scent, and Selene realized there was more to his reaction than just concern over inheriting the inn. "Well, now, that's something to think about."

"Take care of yourself, Orgnar. Goodbye."

Orgnar started to reach for Delphine but drew his hand back before he did something impulsive. "Yeah, sure. You too, Delphine. You be safe."

Selene grinned at him. "_I'll_ be back."

He gave her the closest thing to a smile that he ever managed. "See you soon, then."

She waved goodbye and followed the others out the door and down the south road. Next stop, The Reach.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	7. The Dragonborn's Tale 7:Sky Haven Temple

The Dragonborn's Tale 7

Sky Haven Temple

Although there was the usual tension between Selene and Delphine, the women behaved themselves for the most part and they arrived at the bridge heading north to the Karthspire without incident. That was as far as they got, though, because a dragon attacked when they were halfway across the bridge. It hovered over them and spat frost while the fighters pelted it with arrows and Esbern lobbed firebolts at it. It swooped away, and they ran for solid ground, ready when it came back. It landed before them, and Brynjolf switched to his sword, but Selene and Delphine still stood back and shot. Esbern conjured a flame atronach, who assisted him with his incendiary assault. Brynjolf took a full blast of frost from the dragon and dropped to the ground. Selene's heart wrenched, but he called out, "I'm okay," before she could panic. The dragon took to the air and they aimed their bows again, but they couldn't get a good shot until it stopped moving. It finally came back, hovered, and set its sights on Brynjolf, who was just getting to his feet.

"A little help, Kynareth?" Selene whispered as she aimed and shot. The arrow hit the dragon in the head. It screamed, soared briefly, and crashed to the ground. She approached the dead dragon, who began to disintegrate.

This one was a female, and her name was _Kulaasdoiiz—_Princess of Ice._ "Hi los bahlaan paalle,"_ she whispered as her soul entered Selene's body.

Selene looked up at the others. "She said we were worthy foes."

Brynjolf chuckled. "You mean one actually didn't curse you?"

"It happens from time to time."

"Amazing!" Esbern exclaimed. "I had imagined what it would be like, but I never...you truly are Dragonborn. And you've learned their language?"

"I'm learning." An arrow sailed past her head. "Forsworn!" she cried, and they all dove for cover. She drew her bow and searched for the sniper. As soon as she spotted him, she loosed her arrow and he fell from the parapet on which he stood. They started moving cautiously toward the Karthspire redoubt, which was comprised of a series of wooden bridges and platforms strung across the Karth River along with stone structures on either bank. She hung back and fired arrows while Delphine and Brynjolf engaged the Forsworn hand to hand. Esbern conjured a storm atronach, which looked to Selene like nothing more than a swirling mass of rocks. It was effective, though, shooting lightning from its stony fingers and laying more than one Forsworn out.

There must have been twenty of them, and as Selene and the others worked their way through the redoubt, they all sustained non-life-threatening injuries. Selene took the worst of it when she got too close to a hagraven, who shot flames at her and singed her shoulder. "What?" she groused. "Do you people have a newsletter or something saying, 'Don't forget to throw a fireball at Selene's left shoulder?'"

"You speak in riddles, werewolf!" the hagraven screeched, hurling more flames at her.

"Damn you! See how it feels. _Yol...toor!_"

The witch shrieked as her clothing and feathers caught fire. Selene used the distraction to her advantage, dropping her bow and drawing her sword to decapitate the burning creature.

Delphine walked up behind her as she cleaned her blade. "Did she call you a werewolf?"

Selene looked the Breton dead in the eye and said, "Aye. She did. Look, before you panic, let me assure you that you have nothing to fear. I have complete control of my beast form, and I don't feed on humans."

"But you've killed them."

"I've killed them with a sword and a bow, too. I don't prey on the innocent, Delphine."

"Of course you prey on the innocent. You're a thief." Before Selene could retort, Delphine sighed and said, "Fine. As long as you don't make it my problem. There's a cave across that bridge and up the stairs. It may be what we're looking for."

"Let's move, then." They waited momentarily for Brynjolf to unlock a chest and raid it for some gold, and then they made their way up to the cave entrance, which was flanked by braziers and goat heads on pikes. They dispatched a few more Forsworn inside, including the Briarheart, a vicious shaman who was part man, part undead beast, his heart replaced by a spiny pod with magical properties.

Selene and Brynjolf looked in another chest, which afforded more gold and some valuable potions, while Delphine and Esbern began navigating the tunnels. They caught up with the pair, who had come out in a high, open chamber with several stone bridges set across a wide gap. The bridge they needed, however, was raised and there was no way across. Fortunately, the solution to the problem was right before their eyes. Three puzzle pillars stood next to the gap.

"These are Akaviri symbols," Esbern said, pointing to the pillars. "Let's see. You have the symbol for "'king' and the symbol for 'warrior.' The one on the end that has sort of an arrow shape pointing downward, that's the symbol for 'Dragonborn.'"

"Most puzzles like this have a key somewhere close," Brynjolf remarked, looking around the chamber, but there was nothing.

"Perhaps the Dragonborn knows the answer," Delphine challenged.

Selene looked at the pillars. King, warrior, Dragonborn. The symbols reminded her of Talos, but she was pretty sure this temple was built before Tiber Septim was even born. Esbern had told her the Sky Haven Temple was built to honor the Dragonborn. Perhaps the puzzle was as simple as just turning them all to 'Dragonborn.' She gave it a try, turning the other pillars so that the image was facing forward. The drawbridge lowered.

"It worked!" Delphine said. "Let's see what else they left in our way."

They crossed the bridge and wound through the tunnel until they came to another room, the floor of which was nothing but pressure plates. The same symbols were carved into the plates, and a pull chain hung on the wall across the room.

"What now?" Delphine asked.

Selene studied the symbols on the pressure plates and worked out the pattern in her head. The Dragonborn plates formed a path through the room. "Wait here," she said. She set out, stepping only on the Dragonborn plates.

"Be careful!" Esbern warned her.

When she made it through the maze and reached the chain, she pulled and said, "Give it a try."

Brynjolf, who was in front, stepped gingerly on one of the other plates, and nothing happened. "It's safe," he announced, and they crossed the room and entered the next tunnel.

The passageway wound around, and they crossed bridges in the same high chamber twice before coming to a large room with no ceiling. The late afternoon sun shone on the chamber, and a chill wind blew through. It was mostly empty, the only objects being a large treasure chest, a platform on the floor made of concentric circles, and a huge sculpture of a head set into a recess in the back wall.

"Ah, the entrance," Esbern proclaimed. "Wonderful! Remarkably well preserved, too." He stepped onto the circular platform. "Here's the 'blood seal,' another of the lost Akaviri arts, no doubt triggered by...well, blood. _Your_ blood, Dragonborn."

"Now, wait just a minute," Brynjolf began, but Selene put a hand up.

"I don't think they'll need all of it, love. Let me try something." She knelt in the circle, took her dagger out, and sliced her hand, letting the blood drip onto the seal. Suddenly the seal glowed with bright, white light, and the concentric circles started spinning. They stopped to reveal the Dragonborn symbol in carvings and shading Selene hadn't even noticed before. As the seal spun, the head lifted into the recess, forming a shadowy doorway.

"After you, Dragonborn," Delphine offered. "You should have the honor of being the first to set foot in Sky Haven Temple."

Selene led them past the head and up the stairs to a stone door with the Dragonborn symbol on it.

"There's no telling what we might find inside," Esbern declared enthusiastically.

"Let's find out, then." Selene opened the heavy door and stepped into a corridor with more stairs. While Esbern and Delphine took their time, Selene and Brynjolf climbed the steps to find a cavernous hall with a high, stone ceiling. Gaps had formed over time and the hall was open to the sky above in places, but it was unexpectedly warm. Again, the room was almost empty. The only furniture was a long table up the center with a few chairs around it. The table jutted out from a dais, on which was an expansive, intricately carved mural.

Selene and Brynjolf approached the wall and stared in awe. It was like nothing Selene had ever seen. The center of the elaborate relief showed a man with arms spread out and a staff in his hand. To his left and right were two others, and they all seemed to be shouting or singing. Above them was the image of a dragon. Radiating out from the center were several scenes depicting soldiers, destruction by dragons, what appeared to be some sort of dwarven centurion, even an Oblivion gate. Although the carvings were complex and finely detailed, their meanings were vague. The dragons breathing fire and destroying cities were clear enough, and the picture in the center seemed to depict the people killing a dragon, but otherwise the symbols were unclear. On the very right, however, one warrior stood alone, bigger and more prominent than all the others, holding fast against the fire of a mighty dragon. Selene didn't have to wonder what that carving represented.

Delphine and Esbern came slowly up behind them, Esbern making comments about this carving and that as they walked up the stairs. He gasped when he saw the wall. "Shor's bones! Alduin's Wall! I've never seen a finer example of Akaviri sculptural relief. And it, too, is so well preserved. Look at the fine detail in the—"

"Esbern, we need information, not a lecture on artistry," Delphine scolded.

"Yes, yes, let's see what we have." He wandered to the left-hand end of the wall. "This panel goes back to the beginning of time, when Alduin and the Dragon Cult ruled over Skyrim. And here, the humans rebelled—the legendary Dragon War. Alduin's defeat is the centerpiece of the wall. You see, here he is falling from the sky, the Nord Tongues arrayed against him." He pointed to the three human figures shouting at the dragon."

"Tell us how they defeated him," Delphine prodded. "Isn't that why we're here?"

"Delphine, a few seconds isn't going to make a difference. It's not like I'm going to run out and defeat Alduin today, so just shut up and give him a minute. How can you tell the dragon is falling from the sky? It just looks like a big head to me."

"Patience, ladies. The Akaviri were not a straightforward people. Everything is couched in allegory and mythic symbolism. His fall is implied by the angle of his head. He is not looking down to rain fire on them; he lifts his head to the sky, his wings flailing wildly as he struggles to get away. This—" he pointed to a cryptic shape over the center human's head "—this is the Akaviri symbol for 'Shout.'"

"You mean they used a Shout to defeat Alduin?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Presumably something rather specific to dragons or even Alduin himself."

"Damn it," Delphine spat.

"Any of you ever heard of such a thing?" Brynjolf said.

Selene shook her head. "I've learned lots of Shouts but never anything like that. The Graybeards might know. Fancy a trip up the Seven Thousand Steps?"

Delphine let out a frustrated sigh. "I was hoping to avoid having to involve them in this."

"What do you have against the Graybeards?"

"If they had their way, you'd do nothing but sit up on their mountaintop and talk to the sky, or whatever it is they do. The Graybeards are so afraid of power, they won't use it. Have they tried to stop the civil war or done anything about Alduin?"

"What civil war? It's over, in case you forgot. When it was going on, did _you_ try to stop it? How is it any more their responsibility than someone else's? As for Alduin, that's my job, not theirs. And don't worry; I'm not afraid of my own power."

"Don't get me wrong, Dragonborn. The Graybeards can teach you a lot. Just don't let them turn you away from your destiny."

"They say I need to discover my own destiny."

"Your destiny is clear. You're Dragonborn, and you're the only one who can stop Alduin. Don't forget it."

Selene shrugged. "I would argue about you telling me my destiny, but I believe you're right. We'll go see what Master Arngeir knows about this Shout."

"Good thing they've already let you into their little cult."

"Delphine, you don't even know them. Have you ever even met them? It's a monastery with four very peaceful, dutiful monks who have pledged their lives to the worship of Kynareth. If you call that a cult, you're insulting _my_ religion as well."

"You're right; I'm sorry. Let's settle in and get some rest. You can get started tomorrow."

"Seven thousand steps, eh?" Brynjolf muttered.

"It's not as bad as it sounds," Selene assured him.

* * *

When she explored the temple, Selene found a sword of a type she had never seen before. It was made of fine steel, slightly curved, very light, and sharper than any blade she had ever seen. It glowed with purple energy. She took it to Esbern.

"Dragonbane!" he exclaimed. He took it from her and tested the edge with a finger, which came away bloody and a bit singed. "A beautiful weapon, and still sharp after all this time. It will deliver a shock to all enemies, but it is specially enchanted to do extra damage to dragons."

"I've never seen a blade like that."

"It's a _katana_, commonly used by the Akaviri. I'd wager you'll find several _katana_ in the temple, along with some Blades armor." He handed Dragonbane back to her. "This was left for you, Dragonborn."

She took the weapon and inserted it back into the sheathe it came in. "Looks like I have a new sword."

"Handling a _katana_ is different than handling a regular sword. You use both hands, and instead of swinging across or stabbing, you cut from above."

Selene stepped back, redrew, and made a few practice swings, slicing toward an imaginary opponent's head, neck, and shoulders.

"Aim for their center, not their neck," he instructed, "and follow through. The idea is to cut _through_ their body."

"I didn't realize you were a swordsman, Esbern."

"Oh, no, my dear, I'm no swordsman. But I do pay attention. Delphine could probably give you better training than I."

It didn't take more than a quick lesson for Selene to learn the technique, which was really very simple. Delphine taught her the stance and the three basic moves in just a few minutes. Mastery would come with practice. The most miraculous feat of the day, however, was that Selene actually managed not to use the sword on Delphine.

They found a dormitory, but the beds were unusable because the mattresses had mostly rotted away, so they spent the night on the floor of the main hall, tucked into bedrolls. Selene didn't sleep. The Wall, the prophecy, all they had learned made her head spin. Things were getting too real, and they were moving fast. The World Eater was no longer a vague, distant menace, no longer something she could ignore. He was here, bent on destroying this world and the next, and she was expected to stop him. But how? She was just one person—and not much of one at that. She was only twenty-two years old, she was short, and she was more thief than fighter. When it was quiet like this, she couldn't help thinking Akatosh and Kynareth picked the wrong Dragonborn. She forgot all her accomplishments of the last few years and thought only of her shortcomings. And her biggest shortcoming was that she was a coward. How many times had she run away when things started to get hairy? Even now, she was tempted to just pack up her bedroll and slip out when nobody was looking.

Brynjolf mumbled in his sleep. Damn him. He had insisted on falling in love with her, asking her to marry him, making her commit. She had to stay here if for no other reason than the utter impossibility of living without him. But morning would come soon, and they could leave together. Screw Delphine. Screw Esbern, and the Blades, and Alduin, and anybody else who thought she was worthy of the title of Dragonborn. Let somebody else do it.

Selene sighed. She wouldn't run, and she knew it. Meeting Brynjolf, marrying him, even becoming Guild Master had taught her she could stay when the going got tough and the world wouldn't crumble. She had grown, and she wouldn't abandon the world when it called for her. She would shoulder the burden of being Dragonborn, even if it meant her death. It probably would.

Sometime before dawn, she heard Esbern come in with a book and sit down at the long table. She'd heard him puttering around all night and suspected he hadn't slept any more than she had. Tired of tossing and turning, she kissed her sleeping husband and joined the old man at the table, pulling some dried meat and water from her pack.

"I see you found the library."

"Yes, yes. There are so many books, and in such good shape. I must confess, when I saw that the temple was open to the sky, I feared nothing would be left intact."

"So the books fared better than the mattresses?"

"What? Oh, yes." He chuckled. "There is so much information, it will take months to read and catalogue everything."

"Sounds like fun."

"Indeed, indeed. After you have been to High Hrothgar, come back here. There is so much to discover, surely I will have something of use to you by then."

Selene took a bite of meat and chewed thoughtfully. "Esbern, do you really think one person will be able to defeat Alduin?"

"I'm afraid I don't know, Dragonborn," he admitted. "If anyone can, it will be you. But the outcome of the final battle was not foretold. The prophecy only says, 'The World Eater wakes and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.'"

Brynjolf crawled out of his bedroll and joined them at the table. He kissed Selene on the forehead before sitting down next to her, digging in her pack, and pulling out some cheese.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," she said.

"You didn't. I haven't slept much. Arriving here at the temple, seeing Alduin's Wall, it all made it seem so much more real. It's hard to get a handle on."

"Tell me about it. Esbern, that prophecy's not much to go on."

"You must have faith, my dear. Prophecies never tell the whole story."

"Think about this," Brynjolf remarked. "If there was no hope at all, why would the gods have bothered sending you in the first place?"

"Well, when you put it that way..."

"We're both up; let's get started. The sooner we get to High Hrothgar and get some answers, the sooner we'll be able to sleep."

"Ya think?" she grunted. "I think any answers the Graybeards give us are only going to raise more questions."

"Then we'll find answers to those. Don't give up on me, love."

Selene sighed and leaned over to lay her head on his shoulder. "I'm just feeling overwhelmed. I'll feel better once we get on the road. Sitting here at the temple isn't good for me. I need to do something. Esbern, would it be okay if I took one of those _katana_ we found in the armory? I know somebody who might like it."

"Who's that?" Brynjolf asked. "Vilkas?"

"Aye. He's a master swordsman and a collector, and since we're going by Whiterun on the way to High Hrothgar, I thought I'd take one to him. It might be fun to teach _him_ something for a change, too."

"I don't see why not," said Esbern. "Everything within the Sky Haven Temple is for you to use as you see fit."

Taking care not to wake Delphine, she got up and reloaded her knapsack, then packed her bedroll while Brynjolf did the same. When they were ready to leave, she rested a hand on Esbern's shoulder. "I'm going to miss you, old man."

Esbern patted her hand. "It's been a pleasure getting to know you, Dragonborn. Don't worry. I'll have more answers for you when you return."

She turned, and Brynjolf followed as she made her way out of the Sky Haven Temple, through the Karthspire, and out into the Reach. Before they had gotten very far, Selene heard the howl of a dragon approaching in the distance. But it wasn't dread she felt; it was excitement. She didn't know when it had happened, but she had come to enjoy fighting dragons. And really, that was all Alduin was, wasn't he? He was just a dragon, and he would die at her hands, as sure as the one they fought today.

Selene groaned. Nope, she didn't believe it for a second. Alduin was going to kill them all.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	8. The Dragonborn's Tale 8: Harsh Words

The Dragonborn's Tale 8

Harsh Words

The trip from Sky Haven Temple, with only a day's stop in Whiterun to give Vilkas the _katana,_ was long and arduous. Selene and Brynjolf fought Forsworn, bandits, bears, a sabre cat, and two dragons, as well as freezing rain on the tundra and snow in the mountains . They nursed a lot of injuries, and they got very little sleep. By the time they arrived at the Vilemyr Inn in Ivarstead late on the evening of their eleventh day of travel, Selene had become quite adept at healing spells and they were in foul humor. Then again, Brynjolf had been in a bad mood ever since they had left the temple. He was happy most of the time, or at least good tempered; they rarely even argued. But during this trip, he was prone to snapping at Selene for little or no reason. Something was bothering him, but whenever she asked him what it was, he just said he was tired.

"Why don't we take the day off tomorrow?" Selene suggested as she laid her head on his chest in the quiet of their room. "Just sit around and do nothing but drink mead and relax? Or maybe stay in bed all day?"

"I don't know. We've come this far; I think I'd just as soon get this trip over with."

The comment stung, but Selene understood. The last couple of days had been the worst, slogging through the snow with the stress of the trip and the desire to be done with it weighing them down with every step. Perhaps it was better to just get to High Hrothgar. She couldn't think of a more peaceful place in all of Skyrim; they could rest when they got there.

At least they had sunshine the next morning. Before starting up the mountain, Selene stopped in at Klimmek's to see if he had any supplies she could deliver to the Graybeards, and he gave her a satchel with his thanks and a couple hundred gold pieces. Unfortunately, Brynjolf's mood hadn't improved even after a night's sleep in a comfortable bed. He complained about the icy path, about the cold wind that blew constantly, and about the fact that Selene stopped to meditate at each of the carved monoliths telling the history of the Way of the Voice. For Selene's part, the trip was almost over and the meditation soothed her, so she was patient with him for the most part.

They were making their way through a partially covered section of the path when a troll dropped down from the cliff above and snarled at them. Selene dropped her bow and drew Dragonbane, and Brynjolf pulled Chillrend from its sheath; she moved to the left while he flanked the beast on the right. She swung at its midsection and made a devastating slice at the same moment Brynjolf did the same on the other side, all but cutting it in half. The troll's insides fell out and it dropped dead, but the shock from Dragonbane radiated through its body, up Brynjolf's sword, and into his hands. It was a freak accident, nothing intentional and practically unheard of, and he wasn't badly hurt. But it made him angry.

"Godsdamnit, Selene, watch where you're pointing that thing!" He dropped his sword and flexed his fingers, which were smarting from the shock.

"I'm sorry," she replied defensively. She reached for his hands. "Let me see."

He jerked them back. "They're fine. Let's just get moving." He barely spoke the rest of the way up the mountain.

After the altercation with the troll, the calm of the trail and meditation at the stones no longer soothed Selene. Her bad mood matched Brynjolf's, and by the time they arrived at the monastery, they were grousing at each other about every little thing. As if her day weren't bad enough, Master Arngeir was less than enthusiastic about her request to learn the Shout that would take Alduin down.

"Where did you hear of that?" he demanded, peering up at her from his chair in the dormitory. "Who have you been talking to?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it matters. We need to know where you stand. Or who you stand with."

Selene narrowed her eyes. "I'm sorry. I thought it was us against the dragons. Are there other warring factions I don't know about?"

"Who told you about this Shout?" he asked again without answering the question.

"It was the Blades."

"Of course, it was. They specialize in meddling in matters they barely understand, and they have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom. Would you simply be a tool in the hands of the Blades to be used for their own purposes?"

"Their purpose is the same as mine: to defeat Alduin."

"The Shout you speak of, it was used once before, no? And yet here we are again. Who is to say the Shout will defeat him, or if he is even meant to be defeated?"

"What?" Brynjolf interrupted. "You're not serious."

"If the world is meant to end, so be it. Let it die and be reborn."

Selene shook her head vehemently. "I've heard this before, and I refuse to let my world die just because some prophecy foretold the end. I'm here for a reason, and I don't think I'm supposed to just sit by and let it happen."

"Those who overthrew Alduin in ancient times only postponed the day of reckoning. They did not stop it."

"Maybe they weren't meant to, but that doesn't mean I'm not. But if I come to the same end, at least I'll know I tried. Please, Master, help me in this."

"No. Not now. Not until you return to the path of wisdom."

"You mean the path of sitting up here and ignoring the world, don't you? That's easy for you to say; you don't have to live in it. I do, and my people are getting slaughtered. How is it wise to let people die?"

He stood and loomed over her, raising his voice. "Have you learned nothing from us?"

"I learned that I need to find my own destiny, and I believe this is it. I also learned I can commune with Kynareth, and even _she_ tells me I need to stop Alduin."

Master Arngeir's eyes widened, and he faltered briefly, but after a moment the stern look returned to his face. "Wind guide you, Dragonborn." He sat back down and picked up a book, studiously perusing its contents and ignoring her.

Selene turned and glared at Brynjolf, who scowled back. "Guess we'd better get started back down the mountain," he muttered.

"Goodbye, Master Arngeir." She turned and followed her husband out of the dormitory and toward the door.

Before they could make it outside, Master Einarth spoke. Brynjolf fell to his knees and covered his ears as the entire monastery shook. Although he spoke in the dragon language, Selene had been learning from some of the souls inside her who refused to keep quiet, and she understood what he said. "ARNGEIR, SHE IS DOVAHKIIN-STORM CROWN. SHE _WILL_ SPEAK WITH PAARTHURNAX!"

Selene helped Brynjolf up from the floor. "Come on. Let's go."

"What did he say?"

"Dragonborn, wait," Master Arngeir called as he chased them down the hall. "Forgive me. I was intemperate. Master Einarth has reminded me that the decision of whether to help you is not mine to make. I'm afraid I cannot teach you the Shout, however. It is called Dragonrend, but the Words of Power are not known to me. It was created by those who had lived under the cruelty of Aduin's Dragon Cult and has no place within the Way of the Voice. These people were consumed with hatred for dragons, and they poured all their animosity into the Shout. When you learn a Shout, you take it into your very being. If you learn _this_ Shout, you will be taking its evil into yourself."

"I don't see that as evil, Master. Angry and cruel, maybe, but it was used to thwart evil, not create more."

"Good men and women have been known to do evil things, have they not? Often in the name of good."

"Then we're back to where we started," Brynjolf groaned.

"No one else knows the Shout?"

"Only Paarthurnax, the master of our order, can answer that question."

"I think it's time I met him, then."

"You're not ready," he protested. "You weren't ready before, and you're not now. But thanks to the Blades, you have questions only he can answer. The way is treacherous, and only those whose Voice is strong can find the path. I will teach you a Shout to open the way. But that is for tomorrow. Tonight, get some rest. It will be dark soon, and you shouldn't traverse the path by night."

Master Borri made supper, and they all sat silently around the table while they ate. Afterward, the Graybeards went to meditate, and Selene gave Brynjolf a tour of the monastery. The night sky was clear, and they lay on the ground, looking up at the Northern Lights.

"They were all so quiet at dinner," Brynjolf commented.

"Every word they say comes out as a Thu'um. Only Master Arngeir is able to speak in a normal voice. The rest of them don't talk much."

"Good. I think I'm deaf in one ear now." He sat up and nodded toward a flight of stone stairs that led to a gate bearing the image of a dragon. "Where does that go?" he asked, pointing to the gate.

"That's the gate to Paarthurnax, the leader of the Graybeards. He lives in seclusion at the top of the mountain. He rarely speaks to the Graybeards and never to outsiders. Being allowed to go see him is a great privilege."

"I'm surprised they're letting me go."

"Master Arngeir probably figures it's no use trying to forbid me to take you."

Brynjolf stood up and walked over toward the steps, then went up to the gate. Selene got up and followed. "Love, I don't think it's such a good idea to stand so close to that." When she arrived at the top, the whistling of the wind and the swirling mists just outside the gate affirmed her statement. She could feel the chill from here, the temperature dozens of degrees colder and the wind so strong that it almost sounded like the howl of a dragon. Brynjolf's scent hinted at fear and frustration, and he paced back and forth in front of the gate.

"Brynjolf, come back downstairs." She took his arm, but he jerked away from her grasp. He did descend, however, with her hot on his heels. "Why are you so angry with me? You've been like this for days, and I don't know what I did."

He wheeled around and glared at her. "Do you ever get tired of it? Do you ever get sick of people saying you're the only one who can do this? Wouldn't you like for once just to tell them all, 'Go fuck yourself'?"

"On a regular basis, but I can't afford to actually do it. Brynjolf, I thought you understood."

"And then me, I've followed you all the way across Skyrim so many times I've lost count. Everywhere you go, I'm right there, doing what I can to help but feeling like I'm more of a burden than anything else."

"Never! Why would you even think that?"

"Selene, I'm so far out of my element here that I don't know how to handle it anymore. And it doesn't get any better; it just gets crazier and crazier, the farther we go."

"Well, what am I supposed to do, just abandon the world when it's counting on me?"

"I'm counting on you too, in case you forgot."

"Don't tell me you're feeling jealous over this."

"No, that's not it. I'm just...we practically killed ourselves getting up here, and first they say they won't help at all, and now they want us to go farther, saying the way to Paarthurnax is treacherous. After seeing what's beyond that gate, I'm betting they're not just talking about slippery rocks."

"If that's what you're worried about, you can stay here tomorrow."

"That's not the point!" he snarled.

"Then what _is_ the point?" she snapped back.

"I don't know if I can keep up with you any longer."

Selene's heart felt as if it had been yanked from her chest. A terrible weight settled over her, and she found herself dropping to her knees. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. This was definitely one of those times she was tempted to tell the world to go fuck itself. Being Dragonborn shouldn't mean losing the people she loved. If he was going to leave her over this, perhaps it would be better if the world _did_ end.

He knelt next to her and took her hands. "That didn't come out right. I'm not leaving," he said as if he had read her mind. "I'm simply overwhelmed. I know what you're going through is worse, but Selene, I'm not as strong as you are."

"But you _are_ strong. You're the strongest person I've ever met. You've been thrust into a situation that's far beyond anything you've ever known, and you're holding your own."

"I'm _not_ holding my own, love. Every time something new comes up, it's all I can do not to run screaming. I have to admit, when it looked like the Graybeards weren't going to help us, I was relieved. It might ultimately mean the end of the world, but it would at least be a break for us."

"A break for _you,_ you mean."

"Don't make it sound like I haven't considered you in all this. Do you not think it's hard for me to watch you suffer? And don't tell me you're not suffering. You don't sleep, you don't eat as much as you should, and you don't smile. I can't remember the last time we had a really good laugh together. This is weighing on you just as much as it is me, probably more, and it breaks my heart. I can't help you, not really. I can't protect you—not that you need protecting, but still." He reached up to his braid and untied the string, then combed his fingers through. "And I don't deserve this."

She didn't say anything, just reached up and started braiding the lock again, but he pushed her hand away. "You're not listening to me!"

"I am listening to you, love. You said once that I made you want to be more. Do you remember what I told you?"

"You said I _was_ more."

"Aye, I did. Brynjolf, I don't know if I could do this if you weren't by my side. I wouldn't even know where to start. You're right: I don't need protecting. But I do need somebody watching my back. A shield-brother—or a partner in crime, take your pick. That being said, if you still think you can't handle it, go back to Riften and take care of the Guild. It's what you're best at, and I'd rather have you waiting for me at home than staying with me and resenting it."

"I don't resent it, love, and I'm not going back to Riften to wait while you're off trying to save the world. How could I manage the Guild when all I could think about was if you were ever coming back? No, I'll stay with you as long as I can. I just...I keep thinking this can't end well. I couldn't lose you, either, you know. I think of that last image on Alduin's Wall with the Dragonborn standing against Alduin, and he's breathing fire at him—you."

"I've been burned before."

"Aye, and you've been lucky. But luck runs out, even for a Nightingale."

"I never believed in luck before I met Nocturnal; I can get by without it now. I'll survive this, Brynjolf. We'll _both_ survive. And when Alduin is dead, we'll go back home and forget any of this ever happened."

"Bold words."

"Sometimes bravado is a good thing."

* * *

After breakfast the next morning, Selene and Brynjolf geared up and followed the Graybeards to the courtyard. Master Arngeir led them to the bottom of the stairs. He whispered at the ground, and three Words of Power sank into the stones at his feet. Selene read the words—_lok, vah, _and _koor_—and Arngeir gifted her with his understanding. _Sky, spring, summer._ The Clear Skies Shout.

"You will always be welcome at High Hrothgar, and its doors will ever be open to you. However, this is our final gift to you, Dragonborn. Use it well. Clear Skies will blow away the mist but only for a time. The path will be perilous, so keep moving and stay focused on your goal."

"Thank you, Master."

The Graybeard nodded, and Selene and Brynjolf walked up the stairs. Ice crystals swirled before her, and the wind howled. She couldn't see more than a few yards through the mist. It was time to try the Shout.

"_Lok...vah koor!"_

A loud _BANG_ much like that of the Unrelenting Force Shout rang through the air, and the force of the Shout pushed back the mist and swirling ice. She could see much farther now, and the path waited. She stepped through the gate with Brynjolf following.

Master Arngeir had been right; the path was indeed dangerous, with sharp rocks and chunks of ice jutting up from the ground and wicked-looking icicles hanging from crags above. The trail was narrow, the drop off was precipitous, and the harsh, blistering wind was a constant threat. The trip took several hours, and she had to use the Clear Skies Shout every five minutes or so. It was exhausting, but there was no time to rest. If they stayed in one place more than a couple of minutes, the mists intruded even more quickly.

They finally reached a place where the winds and mists stopped altogether. It was almost as if they had breached a wall. The air was crisp but calm, the sun shone brightly on the snow, and a mountain goat ran along the path. They had reached the summit. Walking around a large outcropping of rock, Selene saw a Word Wall, but she didn't see anything remotely resembling a dwelling. She even looked behind the wall, which was oddly silent, but there was nothing and nobody.

"Maybe he's farther up?" Brynjolf wondered.

"But the path ends here. The rest of the way up is just rocks."

Suddenly a shadow fell over them, and she heard the telltale whoosh of dragon wings. She drew her bow and Brynjolf drew Chillrend, but the dragon didn't attack. Instead, he landed a few yards away and laid his head on the ground. Selene took it to mean he didn't want to fight and lowered her bow, but she didn't put it away. She was curious, but she wasn't stupid.

This dragon didn't look the same as the others she had met. For one thing, he was white. He also had the look of astonishing age. Wear and tear was visible on his body—a broken horn, scales missing here and there, torn wings—and there was the look in his eye. Selene hadn't paid much attention to dragons' facial expressions, but this one had very wise, expressive eyes. Intelligence gleamed in them, as did gentleness.

_Paarthurnax,_ one of the dragon souls whispered. _The overlord. Once cruel, but is known that he became one of peace._

_It is known,_ said another.

"_Drem yol lok._ Greetings, traveler. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my mountain?"

"I think you already know who I am."

"You speak true, _Dovahkiin_. Forgive me. It has been long since I spoke with a stranger. I gave into the temptation to prolong our speech."

Selene realized Paarthurnax was lonely, and her heart went out to him. It wasn't like he could live at the monastery, and she wagered that the Graybeards didn't get up here very often, especially with their advanced age. "There's nothing to forgive, Master Paarthurnax."

"There are many hungers it is better to deny than feed. Discipline against the lesser aids in denial of the greater. Now, tell me why you intrude on my meditation."

"I need your help. There's a Shout I must learn, and the Graybeards don't know it."

"Patience. There are formalities which must be observed at the first meeting of two of the _dov_. Hear my Thu'um, feel it in your bones, and match it if you are _Dovahkiin._" He turned, ambled awkwardly toward the Word Wall, and spoke. _Yol...toor shul!"_ Fire erupted from his lungs and burned into the wall.

"The word calls you. Go to it."

Selene went to the wall and studied the markings. All three Words of Power were burned into the wall, but only the third, the one she did not know, glowed brightly as the word _shul_ clarified in her mind.

"This completes your mastery of Fire Breath, I see." Selene turned to him and nodded. "A gift, _Dovahkiin._ Use fire as the _dov_ do."

Selene felt a warm rush of wind and comprehended the word _shul—sun._ Paarthurnax nodded, and she turned to the side so as not to blast him or Brynjolf and gathered her breath.

_Yol...toor shul!"_

"Ahh, yes!" Paarthurnax exclaimed approvingly. "The dragon blood runs strong within you! I thank you for indulging me, _Dovahkiin."_ He turned and looked over at Brynjolf. "So. You have made your way here to me. No easy task for a _joor,_ a mortal." He turned back to Selene. "Even for one of dragon blood. What would you ask of me? You would not come all this way for _tinvaak_ with an old _dovah_. No, you seek a weapon against Alduin."

"Aye. I need to learn the Dragonrend Shout. I'm afraid the Graybeards didn't approve. Master Arngeir didn't even want me to come."

"They are good friends, very protective of me. But I do not know the Thu'um you seek. _Krosis._ It was created as a weapon against the _dov,_ and our minds cannot even comprehend its concepts."

Selene looked over at Brynjolf, who stood well away from all the fire breathing. He shrugged sympathetically. "It seems we've come all this way for nothing."

Parthurnaax swung his great head in Brynjolf's direction. "_Drem._ Patience. There may still be a way." Looking back at Selene, he said, "But first I have a question for you. Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?"

"I need it to stop Alduin."

"But why must _you_ stop him?"

"The prophecy says only the Dragonborn can stop him."

"Prophecy tells what _may_ be, not what _should_ be. Just because you can do a thing does not always mean you should. Have you no better reason for acting than destiny? Are you nothing but a plaything of fate?"

Selene was starting to get annoyed with people who kept trying to talk her out of defeating Alduin. She had to chuckle, though. Here she was, talking to a dragon and thinking of him as a person. When she thought about it, she realized he wasn't trying to talk her out of it. He was simply asking what her reasons were. "I like this world," she told him finally. "I don't want it to end."

Paarthurnax nodded. "As good a reason as any. There are many who do not feel as you do."

"I know. Master Arngeir believes we should just let the world end so the next can begin."

"Would you stop the next world from being born?"

"The next world isn't my concern. It will have to take care of itself."

"Perhaps you were sent to balance the forces that work to quicken the end of this world. Even those of us who ride the currents of time cannot see past its end. But you have indulged my desire for speech long enough, _Dovahkiin. Krosis._ Do you know why I live here at the peak of the Monahven—what you call Throat of the World?"

"Why?"

"This was the very spot where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues. Perhaps none but me now remember _how_ he was defeated."

"It was the Dragonrend Shout, wasn't it?"

"Yes. And No. Dragonrend was used to cripple him, but it was not enough to defeat him. It was the _Kel_—the Elder Scroll—that was used to send him from the world."

"Sweet mother of Akatosh," Brynjolf muttered.

"I don't know much about Elder Scrolls," Selene said. "I know they're supposed to be very powerful."

"Their power is without measure," Paarthurnax told her. "The ancient Tongues used the scroll to cast Alduin adrift on the currents of time. I warned them against such a rash action—even I could not foresee its consequences—but they did not listen. Time was shattered here because of what they did to him."

"You're saying they sent him forward in time?"

"Not intentionally. They hoped he would be lost forever, but I knew better. Time flows ever onward, and one day he would surface. This is why I have lived here. I did not know when he would emerge, but I knew where. But when he finally came, I was unable to defeat him."

"How does that work? How did they send him through time?"

"I do not know. Perhaps in the very doing, they erased the knowing of it from time itself. However, I believe if you brought that _kel_ here to the _Tiid-Ahraan_—the Time Wound—you may be able to cast yourself back to the other end of the break. You could learn Dragonrend from those who created it. You will see my friends—Hakon, Gormlaith, and Felldir—the first Tongues, the first mortals I taught the Thu'um. I believe the scroll's bond with the _Tiid-Ahraan_ will allow you a vision of the moment of its creation. You will see the power of Dragonrend in its first expression."

"Or she could be lost in the currents of time herself," Brynjolf threw in, stepping closer to the dragon for the first time.

"Reading the _kel_ is not without risk."

"What does the Shout actually do?" Selene asked.

"I cannot tell you in detail; I've never heard it used. But it is said to force a dragon to experience the concept of mortality, a truly incomprehensible idea to the immortal _dov_."

"But the Elder Scrolls aren't just lying around," said Brynjolf.

"Where would I find it?" asked Selene.

"_Krosis_. I know little of what has passed below in the long years I have lived here. You are likely better informed than I. Trust your instincts, _Dovahkiin. _Your blood will show you the way."

"Thank you, Master."

"_Lok Thu'um._ Sky above, voice within." He took flight and soared for a moment before coming to rest on the World Wall with an earth-shaking crash.

* * *

The way down the mountain seemed worse than the way up, and they spent the last couple of hours navigating in darkness. They lit torches to make the trip easier, but they didn't help much, so it was slow going. They had picked the exact wrong time in the lunar cycle—the new moon, when both Masser and Secunda were dark—to make this trip; otherwise, they would have had plenty of light. At least the tension between the two of them had eased so their attitudes weren't making it worse. The Graybeards had already retired for the night when they arrived at High Hrothgar, and Selene and Brynjolf decided to do the same. Too tired to even bother getting undressed, they crashed to the bed and drifted off to sleep in mere minutes.

Selene awoke before Brynjolf, and rather than risk waking him with her tossing and turning, she got up and went to find Master Arngeir. He was in the dormitory, reading.

"Did Paarthurnax tell you what you wanted to know?" he asked.

"He didn't know the Shout, but he thinks he knows a way to find out. I need the Elder Scroll the ancients used to banish Alduin. You wouldn't happen to know where to find it, would you?"

"We have never concerned ourselves with the Elder Scrolls. The gods themselves would rightly fear to tamper with such things. You might try the mages at the College of Winterhold. Such blasphemies have always been their stock in trade."

"Master Arngeir, thank you for your help. I know you're against this."

"I am not all seeing, all knowing, Dragonborn. If Paarthurnax believes this is what you should do, we will bow to his wisdom. Will you leave today?"

"I would like to stick around a couple of days. It's been a long trip, and we're worn out. This has all been so hard on Brynjolf; maybe if we stay awhile, he can find some peace, if only for a moment."

The Graybeard smiled. "Perhaps you can find some as well, Dragonborn."

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	9. The Dragonborn's Tale 9: Ravings

The Dragonborn's Tale 9

Ravings

Although their trip from High Hrothgar was mostly uneventful, Selene and Brynjolf still had to brave the weather. They arrived in Winterhold late in the afternoon in the middle of a blizzard that put a chill even into their hardy, Nordic bones. They headed straight for the Frozen Hearth.

"The College of Winterhold is exclusive," Brynjolf told her. "They don't let just anybody walk in and wander around."

"That's why I want to find Enthir. Hopefully he can help me. If not, perhaps the fact that I'm Dragonborn will get my foot in the door."

Nocturnal smiled on them; Enthir was in the Frozen Hearth, drinking and talking to a fellow mage. When he saw Selene, he stood up and held his arms out. "It's good to see you," he said as they embraced. He stepped away from the other mage and lowered his voice. "Have you got some, uh, merchandise for me?"

"Actually, I need your help with something else. I need to get into the college."

"Sure, but what do you need to get in for?"

"I'm looking for an Elder Scroll."

Enthir's eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped. "An Elder...are you out of your mind? Do you know how dangerous those are?" He took her arm and led her to a remote corner of the room. "What in Oblivion is going on, Selene?"

"I've got a secret, Enthir—well, it's not that big a secret, I guess. I'm the Dragonborn."

A broad smile crossed Enthir's face. "You're kidding! Really? I always thought the Dragonborn would be...taller."

Brynjolf chuckled, and Selene smirked at the elf. "You're all heart, Enthir."

"All right, Dragonborn. I can take you to meet the librarian. Urag gro-Shub. I don't know if we have an Elder Scroll at the college, but Urag should be able to point you in the right direction."

"The college has an orc librarian?" Brynjolf asked incredulously.

"Hard to believe, isn't it? But he really knows his stuff. Come with me."

"Just like that?" Selene asked. "You don't have a million questions?"

"Of course I do, but in our business we know better than to ask a lot of questions. I trust you, Selene, at least as much as I trust anybody, and I'll take you at your word that you're Dragonborn. Although, it would be interesting to see you perform one of those dragon Shouts I've heard so much about."

She thought for a moment and then gave him a grin. "I'll be glad to show you, Enthir. Outside."

They walked out the door and into the blinding snowstorm, which had gotten worse since they had entered the tavern. It was perfect. Selene led the elf and Brynjolf to the edge of town, turned away from them and walked a few paces away, and then gathered her breath.

"_Lok...vah koor!"_

Enthir and a couple of town guards watched in amazement as the snow stopped and the sky cleared. Selene smiled up at Enthir from beneath a starry sky with Secunda waxing above her head.

"That's astonishing!" Enthir cried. "And very handy in this part of Skyrim, if I do say so."

One of the guards walked up and said, "Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to keep it down. All this shouting will frighten the townspeople."

"It won't happen again."

He nodded and started to walk away, but he stopped and looked back. "It was impressive, though."

"Follow me," said Enthir, and he led them up the steep ramp to the college.

Selene held her breath as they navigated the passage, which was narrow and crumbling. At regular intervals, small pools shone ethereal blue light into the sky, and she could feel subtle vibrations coming from them. At the end of the passage was a courtyard with a statue of a mage in the center and walkways around and through. Enthir led them past the statue and into the building, where they entered a vestibule with three doors. The center door opened onto a hall with another of the pools of blue light. A couple of students were in the room, practicing. The other two doors were closed.

"That's the Hall of the Elements," Enthir informed Selene as she stuck her head in the door. "Most of our lectures and meetings take place there. The Arcaneum is through this door."

They followed him up a narrow flight of stairs to the library, a key-shaped room lined with shelves and tables. Books were placed neatly on the shelves; many more were piled on the tables and the floor, but even those were tidy. The library was overloaded, but it was orderly. Enthir led them to the desk, where an elderly orc sat reading.

"Urag," he said. "I have some friends who need your help."

The orc looked up and narrowed his eyes, peering critically at Selene and Brynjolf. "Enthir, you can't just bring in strays off the street," he grumbled in a rough voice. "Especially ones wearing Nightingale armor."

Selene and Brynjolf looked at each other, eyebrows raised in surprise. Apparently this librarian _did_ know his stuff.

"They're not strays, trust me. And they won't steal from you."

"Well, you better not make a mess. The Arcaneum is my domain, and I say what goes on here and what doesn't."

"You seem very proud of the library," Selene remarked.

"Heh, I should say so. If not for me, most of these books would have been dissolved or burned to ash before the Third Era."

"Well, we'll be careful. I promise. And we won't steal anything."

"Now. What do you need?"

"I need to find an Elder Scroll."

Urag glanced over at Enthir and scowled, then did the same to Brynjolf before looking back at Selene. "And what do you plan to do with it? Do you even know what you're asking about, or are you just someone's errand girl?"

"I know what I'm asking."

"And what makes you think I'd let you see even it if I had one? It would be kept under the highest security imaginable. Even the greatest thief in the world couldn't get to it." His eyes bored into hers, evidently still not trusting that she wasn't there to steal something.

"What about the Dragonborn?" Brynjolf asked smoothly.

"The Dragonborn? Wait, _you're_ Dragonborn?"

"No. She is."

Urag looked Selene over again. "You're the one the Graybeards were calling? I always thought the Dragonborn would be—"

"Taller?" Selene interrupted.

"A man. Please. Forgive me. I should know better than to make such assumptions. So you need an Elder Scroll to fight dragons?"

"One dragon in particular. Alduin, the World Eater."

The librarian growled. "Mh-hmm, I've heard of that one. Got your work cut out for you there. I'm afraid I don't have an Elder Scroll here, but I can give you what I do have. Don't get your hopes up; it's not much." He went to a shelf and pulled two books, then brought them to the desk. "Here you go. Try not to spill anything on them."

Enthir placed a hand on Selene's shoulder. "If you don't need anything else from me, I have a mug of mead waiting for me at the Frozen Hearth. Stop back in when you finish here, and I'll buy you a drink."

"Thanks for your help, Enthir."

The elf left, and Selene and Brynjolf took the books to a side table. He took one, she took the other, and they began to read.

The book Selene got was a treatise on the effects of the Elder Scrolls. When Enthir said they were dangerous, he wasn't kidding. Most everyone who ever read them was struck blind. Even the Moth Priests, who spent their entire lives training to read the scrolls, went blind eventually. Lovely.

"This book is incomprehensible," Brynjolf complained.

"Let me see."

She traded books with him and paged through what read like the ravings of someone who worshipped Sheogorath or who had been snorting nightshade. The writer spoke in allegory and metaphor, but the images he painted were vague, senseless. She wondered if he had read an Elder Scroll himself and had gone mad as a result. She took the book to Urag.

"This _Ruminations of the Elder Scrolls_ makes no sense."

"That was written by Septimus Signus. He's a master scholar on the nature of the Elder Scrolls. Unfortunately, he's gone."

"He's dead?"

"Oh, no, just gone. At least I hope he's not dead; he was a close friend. I haven't seen him in years. He found this Dwemer artifact up north somewhere and went off to study it. Haven't seen him since. If you want to try to find him, his lab is somewhere up in the ice fields."

Selene reached into her pack, pulled out a coin purse with about a hundred septims in it and placed it on the desk. "Urag, thanks for your help."

"Keep your coin. If what little I've given you helps stop the World Eater, that's payment enough."

As they left the college and headed back into town, Brynjolf said, "So it's a trek through the ice fields, is it? That's a lot of ice."

"Let's ask around town. Perhaps somebody knows a more specific location. Or can at least rent us a boat."

The Frozen Hearth was at full capacity, which amounted to about eight people. It seemed the entire town had shown up to drink their cares away. Selene talked to each of them, but no one knew anything except for one fisherman who had just come in from the north.

"I know the one you're talking about," he said. "Keeps an outpost about five miles due north. Mad as a hatter, he is."

"I don't suppose we could rent your boat tomorrow, could we? We'll pay well." She took out the purse she had offered Urag.

The fisherman took the coin purse, hefting it in his hand as though he were weighing it, and nodded. "I could take the day off. You might have to moor the boat, though. The ice gets pretty thick, so you'll have to walk part of the way across the shelf. There's a stake in the boat."

* * *

The trip to Septimus Signus's outpost turned out better than they expected. The base was closer to Winterhold than the fisherman had indicated, only about two miles; and they were able to work their way around most of the ice floes and take the boat almost all the way. Directly north of Winterhold with the college still visible behind them, they found a small cave cut into an iceberg. A wooden door was set into an opening that was little more than a crevice and led to an icy pathway down a treacherous incline. They stepped very carefully on the slope, afraid that at any moment they would slip and ride the rest of the way down on their arses.

They finally reached the room where Septimus made his home. It wasn't much of a room, just a space about fifteen feet in diameter, containing two tables with some wine bottles and water pitchers, a cupboard with some books and soul gems, and an enormous Dwemer cube. It was taller than Brynjolf, and one face was round with several concentric circles set into it at awkward angles, as if they had been pushed out of place. Three round, blue gems of a kind neither of them had ever seen before were set into the center. There was nothing else in the room—no bed, no chairs, no food.

A man in mage robes paced around the room. He was gray-bearded and emaciated, probably younger than he looked, with a maniacal look in his eye. He looked up at Selene and Brynjolf when they entered the room, but he didn't speak to them; he just turned around and resumed his pacing, muttering incoherently. Selene went up and tapped him on the shoulder, and he stopped and turned around.

"When the top level was built, no more could be placed. It was and is the maximal apex."

"Um, are you Septimus Signus?"

"The box entombs the heart. The ice entombs the box."

Selene looked back at Brynjolf who simply shrugged. She turned back and said, "We're looking for an Elder Scroll."

The old man smiled and nodded. "The Elder Scroll gives insight deeper than the deep ones."

"Do you have one here?"

"I have seen enough to know their fabric. The warp of air. The weft of time. Time bends under the hand that reads the Elder Scroll. The eyes. The eyes see the bend of time. And then they see no more. Or they see more clearly. _Too_ clearly. This is where madness begins."

"So you _do_ have one here?"

"To read an Elder Scroll is to go blind. Or mad, in my case. Do you think me mad?"

"A bit," Brynjolf admitted.

"Oh, but I am well. I _will_ be well. Well to be within the will inside the walls."

"Do you have an Elder Scroll?" Selene asked, speaking slowly as though he couldn't understand her words.

"Great knowings inside an Elder Scroll. But no, it is not in my possession."

"Do you know where we can find one?"

Septimus rested a hand on Selene's shoulder. "It is here!"

"But you just said it wasn't."

"It is in this plane. Mundus. Nearby, relatively speaking." He chuckled madly, and Selene resisted the urge to shake him. "On the cosmological scale, it's all nearby."

"But where? Old man, can you help me get the Scroll or not?"

"One block lifts the other. Septimus will give you what you want, but you must bring him something in return."

"What do you want? You want the Elder Scroll too, don't you?"

"Ha-ha, clever girl! Not the scroll but the knowings. You see this master work of the Dwemer. Deep inside their greatest knowings. But how to get in, eh? The Elder Scroll knows the way. Luckily, they left behind their own way of reading the Elder Scrolls. They existed before time began."

"The Dwemer?"

The old man practically giggled. "No, no, silly child. The Elder Scrolls. They've always been here. And never. I can help you help me." He went to the cupboard and rummaged around in one of the drawers, then retrieved two small objects and brought them to Selene. They were both dwarven, a cube and a sphere, inlaid with Dwemer carvings. The cube seemed inert, but the sphere gave off a faint vibration. "Two things I have for you, two shapes—one round, one edged. The round one for tuning. The Dwemer used music to solve their puzzles and open their gates. A clever thing, is it not? The orb tunes in to the tune of the orb of Nirn. The edged one is a lexicon for inscribing. To us, a hunk of metal. To the Dwemer, a full library of knowings. But empty. The machinations will read the scroll and lay the lore upon the cube. Then Septimus can do the opening! The Scroll will give the deep vision needed to open it."

"And you want to open the cube because..."

"Inside is the heart. The heart of a god! The heart of you. And me. To harness it is to know. But it was hidden away. Someone used dwarven trickery to lock it away."

"But where is the scroll?" Selene insisted.

"Have you heard of Blackreach? 'Case upon where Dwemer cities slept, the yearning spire hidden learnings kept."

"I've heard of it," said Brynjolf. "It's a mythological Dwemer city that's said to have been built beneath Skyrim."

"Not mythological. It is as real as the voices in my head."

"Oh, great," Selene muttered.

"Under deep. Below the dark. The hidden keep. Tower Mzark!"

"Mzark is real enough," Brynjolf confirmed. "It's on the map, and we've passed it before. But it's just an elevator. There's no way in."

"Alftand. The point of puncture, the first entry. Delve to its limits, and Blackreach lies just beyond. The deepest doors of the Dwemer listen for singing. Place the sphere to play the attitude of notes for proper opening. Then find your way to Mzark through the depths."

"Did you understand that, lass?"

"I think so." Selene held up the sphere. "You're saying this is some sort of key, right? There will be a hole or a slot for me to place this in, and that will open the way to Blackreach."

"Can you not hear the singing now?"

"I can feel the vibration."

"Yes! Singing!"

"I'll take that as a yes. What about the cube?"

"The Dwemer found a way to focus the knowings away and inside without harm. No blindness. No madness. Place the lexicon into their contraption and focus the knowings into it. When it glows, it knows. Bring it back and Septimus can read once more." Without another word, he turned away and started pacing again, mumbling about the lock box.

Selene turned to her husband. "I guess we're done, then."

* * *

Alftand wasn't far from Winterhold, so Selene and Brynjolf took a day to rest and get supplies before heading out. The hike took about four hours, and they arrived at the ruin just after lunchtime, having munched on bread and cheese while they walked. Most of it was buried in the snow, but a few towers poked their bronze heads out. It appeared to be the subject of some archeological expedition, or was once. Two shacks were built outside, and although the wood looked relatively fresh, the roofs were riddled with holes and the walls leaned precariously. A wooden bridge was strung up to the portcullis of one of the towers, which appeared to be an elevator exit. There was no lock to pick; the outside of the gate was smooth. There was no way in here.

In one of the shacks, Brynjolf found an expedition manifest. By the amount of wear on the book, they estimated the expedition to be fairly recent. The book hadn't been lying in the weather more than a week or two, if that.

"Do you think we'll have company inside?" Selene wondered.

"Hard to say. The snow has covered up any tracks they might have left."

Outside one of the shacks were a cold campfire and two dead bodies, which were partially buried in the snow. It was an odd place for an avalanche, but they couldn't think of another explanation. Just beyond the campfire, they found a wooden walkway and a bridge leading to an entrance several levels below the surface. There wasn't a door; it was just a big hole in the wall. Selene and Brynjolf ducked inside. The interior was littered with more evidence of the expedition, but it appeared they'd had a bit of bad luck. Crates, barrels and carts lay broken and in shambles. Someone had left their journal near a bedroll, and it confirmed that an avalanche had occurred just after they had finished constructing the catwalk.

"Hmph," Brynjolf grunted. "They probably _caused_ the avalanche with all the digging and hammering." He read further. "Then they got stuck inside by the blizzard. I'd say this expedition was doomed from the start."

"Let's just hope _ours_ isn't."

Farther into the ruin, they found a humanoid ribcage and a trail of blood and gore, but there were no bodies.

"Where is it?" someone said, startling Selene. By the accent, it sounded like a very angry Khajiit male in the next room. "I know you are trying to keep it for yourself, J'zhar. You always try to keep it for yourself!"

Selene nocked an arrow, and they moved into the room, but although there was more blood, there was no angry Khajiit. They moved on, more slowly and cautiously now. They found another journal talking about dwarven spiders someone was studying and mentioning that he saw humanoid shadows in the ruin. He was excited about it. She bet he hadn't stayed excited for long; he had probably seen Falmer. After killing a dwarven spider that popped out of a pipe nearby, they continued on without hearing the voice for a long while. Selene was just beginning to wonder if it was a ghost when she picked up his scent. Shortly thereafter, he spoke again.

"What? Who is this, brother? Another of the smooth skins looking for food? But this one wasn't trapped with us." The Khajiit came around the corner with a dagger. "Aha! You must be the ones who took my skooma! Give me back my skooma, Nord dogs!"

He lunged at Brynjolf, who was closest, and Brynjolf dodged the blade and buried Chillrend in his side, dropping him easily. Just around the corner was a room drenched in blood, along with a couple of woodcutter's axes, and a dead Khajiit. This one had written a journal, as well. It seemed everybody on the expedition was keeping a record. He and the killer were brothers, and the one who attacked was addicted to skooma. They had run out while they were trapped by the blizzard, and the brother went crazy. He started hallucinating creatures coming out of the walls, and then the others started disappearing. He expected his brother was killing them.

"I don't think he was hallucinating," Brynjolf remarked, "what with the spiders, spheres, and Falmer. It's anyone's guess whether he killed them or not."

As they explored the tunnels and rooms, they found lots of chests with valuable jewels, gold, and gems. They fought a few dwarven spiders, but nothing happened of any concern until they reached what the explorers had called the "animonculory" and found their first real evidence of Falmer. They came across one of their fences made of bone and chaurus chitin, and a short time later, they spotted piles of chaurus eggs.

After a while, they entered a chamber that was so high and had so many levels, it made the halls of Irkngthand look like a child's bedroom. They followed a winding ramp down and down until it stopped at a dead end. Part of the ramp had fallen away, and the only way to the next level was to jump onto a large pipe a few feet down and then drop the rest of the way onto the ramp. Brynjolf made it without any trouble, but Selene's foot slipped on the pipe and she hit the ramp on her bottom.

"Son of a bitch!" she growled.

"You okay?"

"Aye, I wasn't planning on sitting down any time soon anyway."

"Is it wrong of me to feel nostalgic? This reminds me so much of Irkngthand."

"Aye, love, it's wrong," she replied with a chuckle.

Selene dusted herself off, and they started down the ramp. The first Falmer was waiting just below. It was a constant battle from there on out, and they mowed through half a dozen of the erstwhile snow elves before finding a human skeleton in a pen. Farther on, one of the explorers was chained to a table in a torture chamber. Her skin was cold, but she didn't yet have the stink of decay on her, even to Selene's enhanced senses. She hadn't been dead long.

After what seemed like hours, they finally left the towering chamber and all its satellite rooms and entered a hall that was as wide as the other was high. It was well lit, home to a handful of Falmer, and housed a large structure in the center. The edifice was open air and built on several levels, but it was blocked by a portcullis. Selene sustained a bump on the head fighting one of the Falmer, but otherwise they were easy enough to take care of. Their energy was waning, though, and if they didn't rest soon, their fatigue would begin to affect their fighting.

When the Falmer were dead, they set about finding a lever that would open the portcullis. She looked for an opening the attunement sphere would fit into, but there was nothing of the sort. Brynjolf, however, found a lever that, when flipped, opened the gate. Inside the structure were two dwarven centurions. One had already been destroyed, but the other came to life when they entered. It ambled over to them, swinging its massive arms, one ending in the shape of a hammer and the other an axe. Arrows did nothing to slow the construct, so Selene dropped her bow and drew Dragonbane. Brynjolf ducked beneath the hammer and swung at its knee, landing a jarring blow that the centurion barely noticed. Selene did the same, and the shock from Dragonbane staggered it. It pivoted from the midsection, its arms swinging wildly, and Brynjolf gave another whack at its knees. It spun around and connected with the hammer, but it was slow, so instead of doing massive damage to Brynjolf's body, it just swept him to the side. It strode after him, though, and this time the hammer was aimed in a more menacing direction—straight down at his head. Brynjolf scrambled out of the way just as the hammer struck the stone beneath him, sparks flying at the impact.

"Stand clear," Selene called, and she swung Dragonbane again, staggering the centurion. It seemed shock was the only thing that would work, so she began hacking at it while ducking its blows, doing her best to wear it down with the electric charge of her sword. She just hoped it wouldn't wear her down first. Just as she was beginning to tire, the dynamo core in its chest popped and sizzled, and the great sentry fell over with a crash. She raided it for its gems, and they started up to the next level.

As they got higher, Selene picked up the scent of two people, and they moved more cautiously. When they reached the top level, they found a mechanism, smaller than the one in Septimus's outpost but containing the same concentric circles and blue stones. A small, round notch was set into the machine. Selene retrieved the attunement sphere and was about to place it into the receptacle when the people she had smelled began talking.

"Sulla, let's just get out of here," a woman said. "Hasn't there been enough death?"

"Of course you want me to leave," a man replied. "You're waiting for me to turn my back so you can have all the glory for yourself."

"It's not about glory anymore. It's about getting out of here alive."

"So you say, but I see the look in your eye. You want the riches for yourself, the fame, the renown. I'll never let you take what's rightfully mine!"

The clang of swords rang out, and Selene stepped through the next doorway to find an Imperial man and a Redguard woman fighting. As the Redguard slew the Imperial, she noticed Selene and Brynjolf standing there. "No!" she shouted, lunging forward to attack. Brynjolf was closest, and she blocked his sword and bashed him with her shield, which had several long, razor-sharp spikes on the front.

Brynjolf screamed as the barbs tore through his armor and ripped into his flesh. The force of the bash knocked him back, and he landed hard, crashing against the doorframe and keeling over. Selene took a few steps back and drew her bow, nocking an arrow quickly and shooting the woman before she had a chance to advance on Brynjolf. The fire-enchanted arrow hit her in the arm, and she squealed in pain and turned on Selene, who had already drawn another arrow. She let fly, and the arrow hit the Redguard in the throat. Blood spurted as she choked and gurgled, grasping her throat. Finally, her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell dead.

Selene rushed over to Brynjolf. "Are you all right?

He peeled his tattered cuirass off to reveal a mass of shredded flesh across his chest where the shield had struck him. Blood flowed freely down his chest and abdomen.

"Oh, gods, Brynjolf."

"Looks like my scars will match yours now," he said, his voice thick with pain.

"Don't talk, love. Lie down." She dug in her pack for first aid supplies while Brynjolf, ignoring her instruction to lie down, retrieved a healing potion from his pack and downed it. She dabbed at the gashes with a rag and applied pressure to slow the bleeding, then used a healing spell to close up the worst of it. When her magicka drained, she drank a potion and started again until his chest looked more like a chest and less like a bloody chunk of meat. She would still need to stitch the wounds, but the spell fixed more than she had expected. Her Restoration magic was improving.

"I've never seen a shield like that," Brynjolf muttered weakly, rapidly losing his strength from loss of blood. "It makes sense, though. You can do a lot more damage to your opponent a shield like that."

"Think you might want to start carrying it? She's not going to be using it anymore." Selene prepared a needle and started stitching Brynjolf's wounds as best she could.

"I've never been much for using a shield, but I might try it out. Seeing how we've been in such close contact. Have you noticed I get hurt more than you do?" he rambled. "Maybe I should start using a bow. Or the shield. Maybe that would keep me out of trouble. It'd be a bitch for my opponents, though. Don't you think?"

"Brynjolf. Lie down."

He drank another healing potion, then lay down with his head on his pack and his feet on Selene's. She unpacked a bedroll and threw it over him to keep him warm and ward off shock. She stitched him up as best she could, then kept watch while he rested.

He awoke after a few hours feeling better, although he was still weak. Behind the mechanism was an elevator, and they took it to the surface and carefully made their way back to Winterhold. By the time they checked into the Frozen Hearth, Brynjolf was feverish and bordering on delirium. Selene left him in bed at the inn under the watchful eye of Haran, the innkeeper's wife, while she ran up to the college to find help. Enthir introduced her to Colette Marence, the college's Restoration master, and she worked on Brynjolf's wounds while teaching Selene a bit about healing magic. Even Colette couldn't prevent scarring from his injuries, but after only a couple of days, he was strong enough to head back to Alftand.

The elevator was still open, so they didn't have to go all the way through the ruin again. They descended to the open-air building in the massive cavern, which was still mercifully free of Falmer, and Selene placed the attunement sphere into the receptacle. With a resonant hum, the floor began to drop to form a spiral staircase. She removed the sphere, and they descended the stairs to a set of bronze double doors.

"I don't know," Brynjolf said. "With all the buildup, I thought the door to Blackreach would be grander."

"Maybe this isn't it. One way to find out." Selene pushed the door open, and they stepped from Alftand into an eerie wonderland.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	10. The Dragonborn's Tale 10: The Scroll

The Dragonborn's Tale 10

The Scroll

It was dark but...not. It was a cave but...not. The air was warm and humid but not stuffy. Far above lay a ceiling of black stone, but azure light shone through millions of cracks and crevices. They were too far below to believe the light came in from the surface; more likely, the geodes in the stone gave off their own illumination. In fact, most of the natural formations emitted blue light. Everywhere they looked, pale blue mushrooms, many of them as tall as trees, glowed brightly, illuminating the cobblestone roads and buildings. Even the boulders, grasses, and stalactites carried the same luminescence, and the cave was as bright as a moonlit night. The only things that didn't glow blue were the cobblestones of the road and the tan stone and bronze of nearby Dwemer buildings and sculptures. Pale flakes of something like wisps from a dandelion floated through the air, never actually landing, just drifting along in the mist. Off to their left, dwarven pistons churned, and water rushed to their right. And they got all this before they even stepped off the balcony. They couldn't see walls other than the one at their backs; the cave was vast, and it seemed the legends of Blackreach being the size of a city were true. They could see shadows of buildings and towers far away, although the mist obscured their distant view.

Selene stood and gaped at the tableau, speechless, barely able to breathe. What words could she possibly use to describe her reaction to this wondrous place? How could she ever speak again?

Brynjolf, however, was never at a loss for words. "It's as if we stepped out of Nirn and into the fantasy world of some blue goddess."

"Perhaps we did," she whispered. "Sweet Kynareth, where do we even start?"

"How about with that building across the road?"

Selene nodded, and they descended the stairs and walked over to a small, well-lit building. A dwarven sphere guarded the door and Selene took it out easily; then they stepped inside. It was evidently an alchemist's field house, judging by the alembic and the plethora of ingredients scattered on the shelves and tables. There was also the most unusual plant Selene had ever seen. It was a nirnroot—its distinctive song allayed any questions about that immediately—but it was bright red.

"Well, this is new," she commented. She reached out to touch the leaf, which was fuzzy and tipped with a sharp point just like regular nirnroot. It had the same light, almost milky scent, too. The only difference was the color.

Brynjolf, who had been studying a skeleton on the other side of the room, picked up a journal and skimmed through it. "Crimson nirnroot," he announced. "Our bony friend here is Sinderion, and he was living in Blackreach to study them. Says here they don't grow anywhere else. I'd say from the dwarven arrows piercing his body, the mechanical guardians didn't approve."

Skeleton notwithstanding, the cottage was actually quite livable. A bed and a couple of dressers stood at the opposite end of the room from the lab, and a fireplace dominated the wall between them. Logs were already stacked in the fireplace, and more were stored nearby. A cooking pot also presented itself for their use.

"It'll probably take several days to search this place," Brynjolf guessed. "We can use this as our base of operations, at least for now."

They rested for a few hours, then set out to explore Blackreach. It didn't take long to spot the first Falmer. Two of them were standing on the balcony of a tower not far from Sinderion's lab. A couple of arrows took them out easily, and Selene and Brynjolf began their search for Tower Mzark. Nothing is easy, though, and that first tower was not the one they were looking for. In fact, there wasn't much to it at all; it seemed to be nothing more than an observation tower. They found a dwarven centurion farther down the road, and they employed their proven method of Brynjolf dodging the hammer while Selene hacked away at it with Dragonbane. They managed to destroy it without injury, and they continued on.

They soon realized that making Sinderion's lab their base wasn't going to work. Blackreach was too extensive to keep going back to their starting point. It was bigger than a city and closer to the size of a hold. They spent days in the cavern, mapping the area as best they could and quickly losing track of day and night as they searched dozens of towers and buildings, taking advantage of buildings they had cleared when they needed to rest. They occasionally came upon an elevator to the surface or to another Dwemer ruin; they spent a couple of hours in Mzinchaleft before they realized they were in the wrong place and turned back around.

Along the way, Selene and Brynjolf amassed thousands of septims' worth of gold and jewels. They also left a lot behind, planning to bring a few Guild members back for a raid sometime in the future. They found several deposits of ore, but they weren't the metals one would expect; they were soul gems. Unfortunately, neither of them had a pickaxe, so the soul gems remained in the ground. Once in a while they ran across crimson nirnroot, the red glow starkly visible among all the blue. Sinderion had mentioned a woman who might make use of the plants, and Selene made note of their location on the map so she might pick them up when they came back with the Guild.

There were Falmer and chaurus, of course, but they were sparsely distributed, and Selene and Brynjolf never had to deal with more than one or two at a time. They killed them if they had to, but they avoided them if at all possible. A trail of bodies would only alert others to be on the lookout. Oddly enough, they came across a giant wandering one of the roads. Selene couldn't help wondering how he had managed to get so lost, but she didn't bother asking him. Although he noticed them, he didn't attack, and she and Brynjolf gave him a wide berth and went on their way.

Most of the buildings and towers were lighted by the usual Dwemer lamps and sconces, which put forth white light. It made those areas easier to explore and gave their eyes a welcome respite from the ubiquitous blue glow. There was lots of water, with dozens of ponds, lakes, and streams being fed by high waterfalls. Like the air, the water was warmer than Selene would have expected, and she and Brynjolf actually managed to bathe while they were in Blackreach. In some areas, the atmosphere was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Even a whisper sounded like a cacophony. Then they would turn a corner, and the roar of a waterfall would rush back in, or they would be assaulted with the repeated clang of dwarven machinery.

After a few days, they came upon a small city. The walled complex housed several buildings and was lighted by a giant, glowing orb suspended over the center. The orb, unlike anything else in Blackreach, glowed yellow, its golden radiance giving the buildings and courtyards the sense of warm daylight. Selene also picked up a familiar scent, although she couldn't imagine how it was possible. There were humans living in Blackreach. She pulled Brynjolf into a corner, and they hid in the shadows as a man walked by. He was barefoot, wearing a ragged tunic and trousers, and he carried a mace. It looked as though he was patrolling. As they watched, a Falmer approached him and said something. The human replied in the same guttural language and continued his patrol.

The Falmer spoke! Selene had only ever heard them screech, and she hadn't imagined they could speak. It was irrational because they were obviously intelligent. She already knew they had a written language; but hearing them talk forced her to think of them as more than just creatures, and that was disconcerting.

That, however, wasn't the immediate issue. The issue now was the fact that this human was obviously allied with the Falmer. Why would a human do that? And how did they ever even get into such a situation? She had never encountered a Falmer who wasn't trying to kill her. Even the people she found that they had captured were kept for torture and experimentation. These were actually cooperating. Whatever the reason, it was irrelevant. His association with the Falmer made him an enemy. Now, not only did they have to fight the Falmer, they had to worry about their human servants as well. Selene nocked an arrow and aimed at the human, dropping him quickly and silently. Things wouldn't be quiet for long, though. Someone would discover him soon, and they would have a battle on their hands.

"We need to get him into the shadows," Brynjolf whispered. Looking around carefully to make sure he wasn't seen, he crept out to the yard where the dead human lay and took hold of his hands, dragging him into the corner where Selene waited. If he was out of the flow of traffic, it would be longer before he was discovered.

They managed to search the entire city without calling much attention to themselves. They encountered half a dozen humans and one Falmer in an auditorium, but they were able to kill them before anyone raised an alarm. Again, they found lots of treasure but no Elder Scroll. Disappointed, they left the city and headed for the next tower, which was up a ramp a short distance away.

This tower was different from the others. The door opened onto an elevator, which led to a round room with a fire pit and cooking pots in the center. Benches and tables stood around the perimeter, and a locked chest provided two valuable circlets. When Selene opened the door opposite the elevator, she knew they had found Tower Mzark.

The room they entered was massive, with curved walls and a domed ceiling, and it was filled almost wall to wall with a gigantic bronze sphere. It must have been a hundred feet high. There was only room for a narrow ramp that curved around the wall and led to the top of the sphere. As they worked their way to the top, they saw several patterns of greenish-blue crystals set into the orb. The walls were standard Dwemer stonework, but the ceiling was set with dozens of hexagonal stones in varying depths. Their surfaces were flat and as smooth as paper. As they reached the top, they saw that the center of the ceiling held a pentagon. It was hollow, and it emitted the brightest, whitest light they had ever seen. It almost hurt to look at it.

The sphere itself had five concentric bronze rings set around the perimeter, and a walkway led up to a small platform hovering over the center. Suspended from the ceiling were two bronze rings, from which five jointed arms extended downward, the placement corresponding with the points of the pentagon. The arms connected at the other end to a third ring, this one holding four egg-shaped crystals. The largest one, set into the center, was at least two feet in diameter. A network of other bronze arms extended out from the five, and each of these held more of the crystals in varying sizes and shapes.

"I...I've never seen anything like that," Brynjolf whispered with awe. "Wonder what it is."

As Selene gazed up at the complex apparatus, she knew. Whatever this machine was and however it worked, it was the key to finding the Elder Scroll. "All those arms were meant to move," she noted. "If we can figure out how to make them move, perhaps they'll point us in the direction of the Elder Scroll."

"Septimus did say the scroll was in Tower Mzark. Well, sort of."

"No. It's here. I know it."

A glass observation deck was constructed around the sphere, and tables and chairs were placed at regular intervals. Ancient, worn books were placed on most of the tables. Oddly, much of the floor was covered with ash.

"Do you think what happened to the dwarves happened so quickly that it just reduced them all to ash?" Selene asked.

"Perhaps. But there's a skeleton over there. What happened to him?"

"He might have come later." She went over to check the skeleton out and found a journal. Thankful that people seemed to love keeping their journals, she picked it up and read.

"He was trying to figure out how the mechanism worked. He says it won't work without the box, and he mentions five rings and four buttons."

Brynjolf pointed to a set of pillars at the top of the ramp. "Maybe those are up there."

They took the journal up the ramp and found the buttons on the pillars. There was also a place for the attunement sphere and a receptacle that looked as though it was made for holding the lexicon cube. The pillar in the center had a glass face and displayed several lights in different shades of blue. The lights were connected like a puzzle or maze by a series of grooves, some of which were lighted to make a path to the center. The whole contraption was evidently a control panel, probably for adjusting the arms and crystals, but the buttons were all covered.

"'The light through the knowledge through the machine rests on the cube,'" she read. "Maybe the lexicon is the box he was referring to. Let's find out." She placed the lexicon in the receptacle, and with a loud click, two of the covers came off the buttons. The pillars on the right, the third and fourth buttons, glowed invitingly.

"Which do we press?" Brynjolf wondered.

Selene shrugged. "Let's start on the outside and work in." She pressed the fourth button and nothing happened. "Hmm." She pressed the third button.

The concentric rings around the orb flipped and rotated, and the arms swung outward and around into a new configuration. Selene pressed the fourth button again, and they went back to the way they were previously.

"Okay, so we don't use the fourth button." She pressed Number Three, and they swung outward again. Not knowing what else to do, she pressed Number Three again. The arms and crystals continued to change patterns until finally the second button opened up.

"Number Two," Brynjolf said as he pressed the button. The arms swung around, the crystals changed their configuration, and the first button opened.

"I sure hope we're doing this right," Selene muttered as she nodded at Brynjolf.

He pressed the first button, and all the buttons snapped shut. The arms swung out to full length, and the largest egg-shaped crystal descended toward the platform at the top of the sphere. It split open with a high-pitched chime to show a huge scroll nestled inside. The lexicon buzzed and sizzled; then it suddenly glowed with myriad gold and blue patterns throughout the carvings.

Selene gasped. "Oh, my gods." She started down the ramp toward the scroll.

"Careful," Brynjolf warned her. "Things usually aren't that easy."

"You call all we went through easy?" Still, she stepped carefully as she approached the orb. She crossed the walkway and stood on a platform in the center, just staring at the scroll for a long moment. The white light from the pentagon made it practically glow. Selene started to reach for it, but suddenly she couldn't move. The thought of taking the scroll filled her with terror. Then again, who wouldn't be afraid of it? Reading the Elder Scroll might render her blind. Even if it didn't, it would take her one step closer to fighting Alduin. The thought made her want to run from the room, screaming in terror.

"It's warm," Brynjolf said as he approached her with the lexicon in his hands.

"Brynjolf, I don't think I can do this."

"Of course you can, love. You have to."

She took a deep breath and reached reluctantly for the scroll. It came out of its cradle easily enough, but it was unwieldy, almost as long as her arm.

"That's not going to fit in your knapsack," Brynjolf observed.

"I've got some leather strips in my pack. We'll use those to tie it around my shoulders and waist."

"Do you want to rest awhile before we go?"

"No, I want to get out of this place." She pointed to a doorway under the control panel. "I'm betting that will lead us outside."

Brynjolf helped her attach the Elder Scroll to her back and adjust it so she could wear it with the backpack, and then they tried the door. Sure enough, it led to an elevator, which took them outside. It was mid-afternoon in The Pale. It was snowing, but the air was fresh and crisp, not too cold, with light winds. Selene took a deep, cleansing breath. Blackreach had been beautiful, but after days in the otherworldly underground city, it was refreshing to be back in her own world. She was tired, and all she wanted to do was go home. But that wasn't going to happen. Not yet.

"Let's go to Windhelm," she suggested. "We can unload some of this stuff and send the rest back to Riften, and I want you to get a bow."

"I know you don't like me fighting dragons up close."

Selene shook her head. "No, and the thought of you fighting _Alduin_ up close puts knots in my stomach. I'd be much happier if you were standing back with me, firing arrows at him."

"So would I, honestly. A bow it is. Then we take Septimus his lexicon?"

"Septimus can wait. Let's get this thing to the Throat of the World and get this over with. It's heavy."

"I can carry it for you, love."

Selene looked over at her husband, actually considering it for a moment, but it wasn't just the physical weight. The burden was hers, and whether he carried the scroll or not, it would still be on her shoulders. "No," she said finally, turning and heading north to catch the road east to Windhelm, "it has to be me."

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	11. The Dragonborn's Tale 11: Dragonrend

The Dragonborn's Tale 11

Dragonrend

Selene and Brynjolf made their side trip to Windhelm, where they invested in a bow. Brynjolf's new bow was made of the finest ebony and rivaled Selene's in quality, and Wuunferth enchanted it with frost and paralysis spells so he would get the same benefits as those from Chillrend. They also sold much of their take from Blackreach and shipped the rest to Delvin. They visited Ulfric while they were in town, and he updated Selene on plans for the moot.

"It has been rescheduled for the First of Rain's Hand," he informed her.

"That gives me just over a month to defeat Alduin."

"Will that be enough time?"

"I believe so. I have a terrible feeling it's going to happen much sooner."

"While you're here, I have other business. There's room in my court for a new Thane."

She smirked at him. "You want me to buy Hjerim, don't you?" She turned to Brynjolf. "A serial killer used it as his base of operations, and now nobody will touch it."

"That is not why I'm offering you the title," Ulfric replied defensively. "You are quite deserving of it. That, and more."

"Then why haven't you offered it to me before now?"

"Because you never stay put long enough."

Brynjolf snickered. "It would be nice to have a place of our own to stay while we're in town." His eyes said more, though. Like the house in Solitude, Hjerim would be a good place for Guild members to lay over while _they_ were in town.

"All right," she relented. "I'll see Jorleif and get the house in my name. I just shipped most of my coin to Riften, so I'll have to make a down payment and bring the rest to him later."

"That will be fine," said Ulfric. "By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Eastmarch. I grant you a weapon from my personal armory and a housecarl, who will move into your house as soon as you purchase it. I know you're Thane in other holds, so you know this is mainly an honorary title."

"Aye."

"Congratulations."

"Thank you. But Ulfric, I don't want a housecarl."

"A housecarl will watch over your home when you're not in town."

"I understand that, but it's not necessary. The city guards will do just fine."

"I insist, Selene."

"Ulfric, no. If you insist on giving me a housecarl, I won't accept the title of Thane, and I won't buy the house."

Brynjolf laughed again.

Ulfric glared at him. "Talk some sense into her, will you?"

Brynjolf raised his hands and shook his head. "I'm staying out of this. You're on your own."

"Stubborn woman. Very well, no housecarl."

Selene smiled with satisfaction. "I knew you would see things my way."

* * *

Selene talked to Jorleif and made a down payment on Hjerim. She also made arrangements for the steward to furnish the house. Ulfric invited them to spend the night in her old room in the Palace of the Kings; and Selene, glad that he and Brynjolf seemed to be getting along—or at least weren't at each other's throats—accepted. During the night, Brynjolf got out of bed to go use the little boys' chamber pot in the next room, and Selene, not quite asleep, heard him and Ulfric talking in the hallway.

"You're not good enough for her," said Ulfric. "You're no more than a sidekick. You know that."

"I know that all too well, but it doesn't mean you're good enough for her."

"I could give her so much more than you can."

"It was her choice, not yours, and she lives very well, thank you. She doesn't want to be a queen. I don't even think she wants to be Dragonborn. She would be perfectly happy working for the Guild and spying for you. I'll tell you something I shouldn't. It kills me to say this, but I think she still loves you. Not that you have a chance in Oblivion of getting her back, but the feeling is still there."

"If you think that, then you don't see how she looks at you. She's fond of me, aye, but I lost any chance of getting her back the moment she met you."

"Gods, I must be going mad. I'm standing in a corridor of the Palace of the Kings with Ulfric Stormcloak, talking about our feelings!"

Ulfric chuckled. "The woman has the power to make men do the unthinkable."

"That, she does."

"I know it's not easy, but do what you can to protect her, thief."

"I can't do much," Brynjolf admitted, "but I do my best."

Brynjolf came back into the room and climbed into bed with Selene. She reached out and snuggled up to him. "When I was with Ulfric, I always felt I wasn't good enough for him," she whispered. "I saw him as powerful, important—"

"Bigger than life."

"I've said that a few times, haven't I?"

"Aye. That conversation was not for you to hear. You were supposed to be asleep."

"I'm glad I heard it. Ulfric's right. I _am_ fond of him, but that's as far as it goes. When I married you, I vowed to never love another. I don't, and I won't. You're everything to me, Brynjolf, and your feelings of inadequacy tear me up inside. In my mind, you're my partner, not my sidekick. I just hope that someday, you'll understand that."

"Perhaps when all this is over. But I see _you_ as bigger than life, you know."

"Oh, no. I'm totally overwhelmed."

"No, you're not, love. You're strong, and you're not going to fall apart. _I_ may fall apart, but not you."

She sighed. "I just hope your trust in me is not misplaced."

* * *

Selene and Brynjolf left Windhelm early the next morning. From there, it was one night on the road, one in Ivarstead, and one at High Hrothgar before heading up to the peak. Selene liked to travel; and as long as they didn't have to fight bandits, bears, or dragons at every turn, the trips usually went by quickly. But every step of this journey weighed on her. It seemed to take forever, and by the time she gave her last Clear Skies Shout at the mists of the Throat of the World, she was barely able to walk. Perhaps she _would_ fall apart, but she was fairly certain she was about to fall down.

"You have the _Kel_," Paarthurnax noted from the top of a large outcropping of rock when they reached the summit. "The very bones of the earth are yours to command. Go. Fulfill your destiny."

"I need a minute," she said as she unstrapped the Elder Scroll and knapsack from her back. She dropped to the ground and leaned against the rock the dragon perched on. She closed her eyes with a heavy sigh and awoke with a start when Brynjolf shook her shoulders. "What is it?"

"You've been asleep for hours, love."

Selene noticed that the light had changed. It was late in the afternoon, only a couple of hours before sunset. "How'd that happen?" She got up and dusted the snow off her bottom, then looked up at Paarthurnax. "My apologies, Master."

"There is no need to apologize. You should be refreshed for the task at hand."

"Paarthurnax believes Alduin will show up after you read the scroll," Brynjolf told her.

"He cannot miss the signs," the old dragon said. "Go now. Take the scroll to the Time Wound."

Selene took the Elder Scroll to the spot near the Word Wall where the air shimmered. Standing in the torrent was disorienting, as though she were already drifting through time. She looked back at Brynjolf and Paarthurnax, and they constantly blurred in and out of focus. Each time her vision cleared, they had moved subtly, as though she were looking at a series of still images of them. She wondered how much time she was spending in the haze. It seemed like seconds, but standing outside of time—or _inside_ it—she couldn't be sure. "Kynareth protect me," she finally whispered softly; then she unrolled the scroll.

There was a head rush and an explosion of sound. A complex network of lines and symbols glowed white on the scroll and then swam before her face, looking for all the world like the web of an educated spider. Her vision blurred, and the world around her seemed to drop away. She was still at the Throat of the World, but it was a different time. Although it had the feel of midday, it was darker because of the black smoke that churned through a blood-red sky. Dragons flew around the peak, howling and spitting fire.

Suddenly a warrior came running toward her from over the ridge. He didn't see her, of course, and he ran by as though she weren't there. He was shadowy, almost cloudy, and his features were impossible to make out. "Gormlaith!" he called. "We're running out of time.

A dragon landed nearby and spoke in the dragon language. "Today Alduin's lordship will be restored. You fight with courage, but you will die now in vain." The dragon breathed fire at the warrior, who rushed toward it and swung his huge battleaxe at its face. Another fighter approached and pushed the first out of the way, attacking the dragon with a sword.

"Hyah!" the warrior, evidently a woman, snarled. "Know that Gormlaith sent you to your death!" She jumped on the dragon's head and drove her blade through its skull, riding it to the ground as it died. "Hakon!" she exclaimed as she leapt from the dead creature. "A glorious day!"

"Glorious? Have you no thought beyond the blooding of your blade?"

"What else is there?"

"It is not just us, Gormlaith. The battle below goes ill. I fear all may be lost."

"Nonsense. Alduin will rise to our challenge, and victory will be ours."

Selene became vaguely aware that the markings on the scroll were moving. Ghostly letters and symbols floated around the spider web, fading in and out as the moments passed. An older man wearing mage robes moved into her vision, and Hakon and Gormlaith approached him.

"Why does Alduin hang back?" Hakon demanded. "We've staked everything on this plan of yours, old man."

"He will come. He cannot ignore our defiance."

A dragon flew over, and the ground shook. Selene felt the whoosh of air as it flapped its wings. The three ancient warriors ignored it.

"We've bloodied him well this day," Gormlaith boasted.

Hakon rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. He stood on the ridge and looked out on the carnage taking place below. "So much death," he lamented.

"You're a warrior! Death is your business. You say the battle goes ill, but how many have _we_ killed? Four of Alduin's kin have died by my blade alone."

"But none have yet stood against Alduin himself," the mage reminded her.

"Galthor, Sorri, Birkir, all dead," Hakon muttered grimly.

"They did not have Dragonrend," said Gormlaith dismissively. "Once we bring him down, I promise I will take his head and mount it on my hearth as a trophy!"

"You do not understand," the old man protested. "Alduin cannot be slain like a lesser dragon. We will need the Elder Scroll."

Hakon turned and rushed over to the mage, who produced the big scroll from inside his robes. "Felldir, no! We agreed not to use it!"

"I never agreed."

"No. We will deal with Alduin ourselves."

The ground shook, and a dragon howled.

"Alduin approaches!" Gormlaith announced.

The enormous black dragon flew over and landed on the Word Wall with a crash, his baleful red eyes surveying the humans. "Fools! You wish to fight me? You can never defeat me. I will be your doom!"

"Let those that watch from Sovngarde envy us this day!" Gormlaith cried. She, Felldir, and Hakon stood together and Shouted at the dragon.

"_Joor zah frul!"_

Alduin shrieked and tried to take flight, but he couldn't get his wings to work properly. He crashed to the ground among the fighters with blue-white light churning around him, clinging to him like a net. "Cowards! What have you done? What twisted words have you created? Traitorous Paarthurnax. I will have his head for this! But first, you will die in terror, and you will feed my power when I come for you in Sovngarde."

"If I die today, it will not be in terror," Gormlaith snarled. She stepped forward and swung her sword at Alduin's face, and he flinched. "Ha-ha, _you_ feel terror for the first time, worm."

Felldir threw a Frost Breath Shout, and Hakon attacked from the flanks, slicing through the dragon's wing with his axe. The battle raged on for several minutes, Gormlaith and Hakon slicing Alduin's scales and wings to ribbons and Felldir hurling spells and Shouts. Alduin shrieked in pain and snapped at them with his great jaws, too weak and gammy to Shout. After a while, the blue light wore off and he seemed to regain some of his energy. He rose up and descended on Gormlaith, catching her in his teeth and shaking his head viciously, flinging her broken body. It bounced off the Word Wall and splattered to the ground in a bloody mess.

"No!" Hakon screamed. As Alduin stood to full height and drew his breath for a Shout, he turned to the mage. "It's no use. Use the scroll, Felldir."

"_Yol...toor...shul!"_ Alduin Shouted, raining fire over the two men. Hakon ducked out of the way, but Felldir stood his ground and cast a frost cloak around himself to combat the flames.

He opened the scroll and viewed its contents with a gasp. Selene could see the glyphs, and they were identical to the ones she read now, floating and shifting in sync with hers. He stuttered a bit, faltered, but finally found his voice. "Sister Hawk, grant us your sacred breath to make this contract heard! Begone, World-Eater! By words with bones older than your own, we break your perch on this age and send you out! You are banished!"

Fear once again washed over Alduin's face. "An Elder Scroll? Treacherous humans!" The blue-white light consumed him, and he roared in pain and fury as he faded out of existence.

Silence settled over Nirn. The howling of the dragons laying waste to the world below stopped, and even the wind seemed to cease blowing. For a moment, everyone—everything—was still. Whether the world waited for chaos to return or breathed a sigh of relief was unclear. Whatever it was, all was calm. It felt as if the world itself had stopped turning. Hakon and Felldir regarded each other mutely for a moment, and then the mage rerolled the scroll.

"It worked," Hakon whispered reverently.

With that, the world began to move again. A strong wind blew across the mountain, and the dragons howled below. This time, however, they weren't attacking; they were fleeing.

"Yes," said Felldir. "The World-Eater is gone. May the spirits have mercy on our souls."

The ghostly white writing on the scroll twisted into a whirlpool before Selene's eyes. She watched the symbols as they spiraled down into the depths, as though the parchment was a great abyss swallowing everything up. She hoped she didn't get sucked down with it as white light filled her vision. Her head swam, and for a moment she did feel as though the vortex would pull her in, but then her sight cleared and her world reformed around her. When she saw what awaited her, she wished the vortex _had_ sucked her down.

The World-Eater hovered over the Word Wall with the sun setting behind him, glaring at her, red eyes glowing. Selene's stomach wrenched, and her heart all but stopped beating as she gaped at the devil hanging in the air before her. She had been in this position before, at Kynesgrove, when he had raised Sahloknir—had it really only been a few weeks? She had been afraid then, but it was nothing compared to the utter, debilitating terror she experienced now. She stood rooted to the spot, unable to move, speak, or even breathe as she and Alduin regarded each other. Behind her, Brynjolf whispered a prayer to Nocturnal, but Selene was too petrified to pray. But a scent began to fill her nostrils, one that made things easier. It was fear, and it wasn't Brynjolf's. When she realized Alduin was just as afraid of her as she was of him, her paralysis faded away and she nodded a greeting.

"I've been expecting you," she said coolly.

The black dragon laughed. "So sure. So confident. But know this, mortal. My belly is full of the souls of your fellows. You will die now, and I will devour you in Sovngarde."

"Dovahkiin!" Paarthurnax yelled. "If you know Dragonrend, use it!"

Alduin howled and flew, soaring overhead as if to flee. Selene waited patiently. She knew he wasn't going anywhere. He would stop again, and he would be hers. He finally came back down, hovered, and drew a breath. But Selene beat him to the punch.

"_Joor zah frul!"_

He screamed, but he didn't fall. Instead he took to the sky again, and Paarthurnax gave chase. Alduin laughed at his brother. "Your power has waned, brother," he taunted, "while mine has only increased."

"Perhaps," Paarthurnax countered, "but you will find the Dragonborn's power has increased as well. You are not the only one who devours souls."

Alduin dodged Paarthurnax, dipping out of the way of the white dragon's sharp teeth; but he came too close to Selene and she Shouted. Again he bellowed in anguish, and this time he tumbled to the ground before her, the net of light binding him firmly. She took aim with her bow, as did Brynjolf, and pelted him with arrows. He moaned in agony and spouted curses at them as blood spilled on the snow. The net finally wore off and Alduin stood to full height, but instead of flying away or Shouting, he nodded at her.

"You have grown strong, Dovahkiin, and I am impressed. But I am Firstborn of Akatosh! I cannot be slain here. You cannot prevail against me. I will annihilate this world and subsist long after you are dead!" With that, he turned and flew away, his howl echoing across the mountaintop.

Brynjolf sighed with relief and sat down in the snow, and Selene dropped down next to him. Paarthurnax flew in and landed atop the Word Wall. "A noble victory, Dovahkiin! Alduin's allies will think twice after today."

"How is this a victory? He escaped."

"Although it was not the final one, it was indeed a victory. Even the heroes of old were unable to defeat Alduin in open battle."

"Well, what else is there?"

"He said he couldn't be defeated 'here,'" said Brynjolf. "That leads me to believe there is a place where he _can_ be defeated."

"One of his allies could tell us," Paarthurnax considered, "but it will not be easy to convince them to betray him. Perhaps you could lure one to the _hofkahsejun_—Dragonsreach—in Whiterun. It was originally built to house a captive dovah."

"You're kidding."

"It's true," Selene told her husband. "King Olaf captured the dragon Numinex. His skull still hangs over the throne."

"This was ages ago, you understand," Paarthurnax added. "I visited him from time to time. My friend was nearly crazed by loneliness and captivity. He did not even remember his own name. I do not know how he came to be caught, but the jarl was very proud of his pet. The palace has been known as 'Dragonsreach' ever since. A fine place to trap one of Alduin's allies, hmm?"

"The Jarl of Whiterun might not think so."

"I do not doubt you can convince him of the need, Dovahkiin. Your su'um is strong."

Selene thought about it and nodded. "It might just work. He is a fellow Companion and a good friend, and he has an adventurous spirit. I'll speak to him."

* * *

"Brill says I'm getting old," Vignar said when Selene told him her plans, "and perhaps he's right. I _must_ be getting senile, because I thought you just asked me to trap a dragon in my palace!" The jarl threw his head back and chortled. Olfina Gray-Mane and Brill, who flanked him, did the same.

Selene remained calm and earnest until Vignar realized she wasn't laughing too and gaped down at her from the dais.

"You're not serious," he choked, apprehension seeping into his scent.

"You know I wouldn't ask if it weren't important."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't. But we've tried so hard to keep dragons out of the city. Why would I just let one in?"

"The dragon threat is worse than you know, Vignar. Alduin has returned."

Olfina Gray-Mane blanched. Brill's eyes widened, and he actually took a step back. The fear that had threatened Vignar's scent a moment ago now flooded across the dais.

"You don't mean...the World-Eater himself? But his return means the end times."

"How would we even begin to fight him?" Olfina fretted.

"It's only hopeless if we give up," said Selene.

Vignar huffed. "I didn't say anything about giving up! We'll go down fighting; you can be sure of that. But what's this nonsense about trapping a dragon in my palace?"

"It has been done before."

"Oh, I'm certain we can do it. If the contraption still works, that is. But why would you _want_ to?"

"Alduin has disappeared, and we're hoping one of his allies will know where he's gone. I want to trap a dragon so I can interrogate him."

"You're assuming an awful lot," Brill said. "What makes you think they would even help?"

"Maybe they won't. But it's our only option at this point, so I have to try."

"We will stand behind you Dragonborn," Vignar assured her. "Whiterun owes you a great deal. What is your plan, then? How do you intend to lure a dragon here and then trap it?"

"Trapping it won't be a problem. I've recently learned a Shout that will incapacitate it. As for getting it here, I don't know, but I know someone who might be able to help. I have to go to The Reach to talk to him, so it will be at least a few days."

"Good. That will give me time to break the news to the men."

"Thank you, Vignar."

"Don't thank me yet. We don't even know if the trap still works. But you do what you have to do, and I'll go dust it off. Let's trap ourselves a dragon!"

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	12. The Dragonborn's Tale 12: Odahviing

The Dragonborn's Tale 12

Odahviing

Selene and Brynjolf were attacked by a tribe of Foresworn at sunset near a ruined castle only a few miles from the Karthspire. After eliminating their assailants, they camped in the shadow of the castle, and they made it to Sky Haven Temple early the next morning. Delphine and her new recruits were already training in the courtyard. Blades clanged and fighters grunted as they sparred, and Delphine stood off to the side and spouted orders and instructions. She raised an eyebrow when Selene walked up to her.

"Anything you wish to tell us?"

"Good morning?" Selene replied, confused.

"We know about Paarthurnax."

"Know what?"

"He's the dragon The Greybeards have been protecting all these years."

"Look, I have other things to worry about right now. Where's Esbern?"

"He's in the library. But we're not done talking about this."

"Whatever. Come on, Brynjolf."

The room they found the old man in was a library only in the most basic sense of the word. It was little more than a closet with a desk, a chair, and two bookshelves. Both cases were crammed full of books, and more were piled high on the floor between them, in front of them, on the desk, _under_ the desk, and in every corner of the room. Esbern sat at the desk, partially buried under a small pile of books he held in his lap. Selene walked in and laid a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up with a start.

"Oh! Dragonborn, it's good to see you."

"Looks like you've been busy."

"Oh, yes, yes. The temple has provided a trove of lost lore! We may have a problem, though." He closed the book he was reading and bent over, setting down the pile of books and digging through another under the desk. "Let me see...it was right over—oh, here it is." He bumped his head as he sat up, grunted, then dropped the book on the table. He turned to a page he had marked and skimmed through, keeping his place with his finger.

"I think it was in this book...the Greybeards...yes, here it is. I found some disturbing information about the leader of the Greybeards."

Selene sighed and looked up at Brynjolf. "They're not going to let it go," he said. "Might as well deal with it now."

"This changes things drastically, as you well know," the old man told her.

"How so?"

"Well, obviously we can't allow him to live. This Paarthurnax was once Alduin's right-hand. His atrocities are without measure."

"But he's not committing them now. Esbern, I need your help, and I don't have time to argue about Paarthurnax right now. I want to lure a dragon and trap him in Dragonsreach."

"Trap a—whatever for?"

"To question it. We need to find Alduin."

Esbern noticed the Elder Scroll strapped to Selene's back and furrowed his brow with concern. "Dragonborn, what has happened? Did you learn the Shout?"

"Aye, and I met Alduin on the Throat of the World. The Shout works; I took him down. Unfortunately he didn't _stay_ down. He escaped. I'm certain I can defeat him, but I need to find out where he went."

"He likely went to Sovngarde. It's said in one of the books that he retreats there to feed on the souls of the dead."

"But how do _we_ get there?"

Esbern sighed and slouched in his chair. "Alas, I don't know. Perhaps one of his allies can tell you."

Brynjolf rolled his eyes with frustration and stepped out of the room. Selene took a deep breath and tried to maintain her calm. "Aye, Esbern, that's why we're here. We want to trap a dragon in Dragonsreach and question him."

"How do you plan to do that?"

If Selene didn't know better, she would think Esbern was slipping. Either that or he was purposely stonewalling her. "I was hoping you'd have an idea."

"Hmm." He went to a shelf and retrieved a pile of papers, which he brought back to the table. He mumbled as he paged through them. "I think I might have...the Blades recorded many names of the dragons they slew. Cross-referencing them with Delphine's map of dragon burial sites, I believe I've identified a few of the dragons Alduin raised. Here it is—Od-ah-viing. 'Winged Snow Hunter,' if I read it correctly."

"How do I find him?"

"Simply call his name. By calling the dragon with the Voice, he will hear you wherever he might be. He's not compelled to come, mind you, but not many would refuse a challenge, especially from one who just defeated Alduin."

"Thank you, Esbern."

"You're welcome. In return, I expect you'll do what is necessary to deal with Paarthurnax."

Brynjolf and Delphine stepped into the tiny room, and neither seemed happy. "What happened?" Selene asked them.

"Delphine here seems to think I can talk you into killing Paarthurnax. As if I'd even want to."

"He needs to die, Dragonborn," said Delphine. "He _deserves_ to die."

"Why?"

"Why? Are you kidding? He's a dragon! A very cruel one."

"Not anymore. Delphine, Esbern, I appreciate all you have done for me, but you're sheltered here. You don't know what really goes on out there, and you don't know Paarthurnax."

"We know enough. His crimes are—"

"Without measure, I know. But I also know he's spent the last several hundred years atoning for those crimes. I won't kill him."

"I told you she wouldn't listen to reason, Esbern."

"Perhaps it's _you_ who won't listen to reason," Brynjolf countered. "Didn't you hear what she said? Paarthurnax has changed. I saw it myself; this dragon is not a threat to anyone."

"Dragons don't change. Look, until he is dead, I'm sorry, but you're not welcome here. We would be dishonoring our oaths as Blades if we continued to help you."

"I thought your oath was to serve the Dragonborn. Funny, it always seems to me like she's the one serving _you."_

Selene started to step past Delphine, but the Breton stood in her way. "We're not finished."

"_Fus...ro dah!"_

Delphine's body went flying out the door and across the hall, where it crashed into the stone wall. She crumpled to the floor and rolled a few feet down the hall before coming to rest with a painful groan. Selene walked out of the room with Brynjolf and Esbern following, and she stood and looked down at the woman with a smirk. "Aye, we _are_ finished, you pompous, overbearing bitch. Try to stop me again, and I'll put your head through the wall." She stepped over Delphine and headed toward the exit, but she stopped and turned back. "Oh, and by the way, on the off chance you send someone after Paarthurnax and they actually manage to get past High Hrothgar and survive the mists to make it to the peak and kill him, be warned: I will avenge him."

"Dragonborn, please—" Esbern called.

Delphine interrupted. "I cannot believe you would choose that dragon over your own kind."

"Delphine, trust me when I say you are _not_ my kind." With that, she turned and left.

Brynjolf chuckled, and softly enough so that only she could hear, said, "I love my wife."

"I love you, too. How are your ears?"

"An Unrelenting Force Shout in that tiny space? I'm practically deaf. But it was worth it."

* * *

"Are you ready to spring the trap on the dragon?" Selene asked Jarl Vignar as she stood before his throne.

"Aye. The great chains are oiled, and we await your word."

"First thing tomorrow morning, then."

They spent the evening in Jorrvaskr, socializing with Lydia, Vilkas, Farkas, and Aela. It was a quiet gathering, and even Farkas was subdued in anticipation of the next day's events.

"I've seen the trap," Vilkas told Selene. "It's pretty far back on the Great Porch. You'll have your hands full trying to get the dragon all the way back there."

"The Shout should bring him down. I just hope he'll land on the porch and not out on the tundra somewhere."

"If that happens, we might have no choice but to kill him," said Brynjolf.

"Right, and then we'll have to start over."

"Not so easy without the Blades."

"We have Paarthurnax. He'll know more names than Esbern ever would. For now, let's assume he lands on the Great Porch to fight me. I'm open for ideas on how to get him to the trap."

"You're an archer," Aela pointed out. "You can shoot at him from beneath the trap and get him to come in after you."

"Unless he decides to just roast her instead," said Farkas, absently stroking the Huntress's hair.

"I didn't say it was without risk."

"But no more risk than if she were fighting it up close," Vilkas added.

Lydia took Selene's hand in hers. "I probably don't need to tell you we'll be there for you tomorrow."

"I appreciate that. We'll need all the help we can get."

* * *

Selene stood on the Great Porch the next morning with Brynjolf, the Companions, Lydia, Vignar, and a handful of guards. "You do have a plan for luring a dragon here, don't you?" the Jarl assumed.

"Aye. I'm going to call his name."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Well go ahead and call him, then. We're ready."

Selene looked out over the tundra, took a deep breath, and Shouted. _"Od...ah viing!"_

Nothing happened for several minutes. They all stood in silence, waiting, but the only thing that landed on the Great Porch was a blue jay, which squawked when she saw them watching her and flew away.

"Maybe he didn't hear it," Farkas wondered.

"Esbern said he would hear it anywhere," said Brynjolf.

Selene shrugged. "Skyrim's a big place. If he did hear it and is coming, who knows how far he had to fly to get here?"

"Do you hear that?" a guard gasped.

There it was—the ominous flap of wings on the wind. Then, with a howl, a red dragon came rocketing around the corner of the palace.

The company rushed to their positions, the swordsmen to the sides and the archers toward the back, with Selene remaining up front for the time being. They would only attack if things got out of hand. After all, the idea was not to kill Odahviing but to trap him. One of the guards didn't clear the balcony fast enough, and the dragon swooped down and grabbed him up in his jaws, dropping him over the rail before rising up to the sky again. Selene readied her Voice as he taunted them, slipping in and out of the reach of their bows. He finally flew low and hovered.

"Dovahkiin, here I am!"

"_Joor...zah frul!"_

Odahviing shrieked as the net of light wrapped around his wings. He tried to climb into the sky, but he faltered and crashed to the floor of the porch. Selene backed up, shooting arrows toward him as he came after her.

"You have nowhere to go!" he jeered as her back hit the wall. He began to laugh, but the chuckle turned into a chocked gasp as the huge yoke dropped down from the ceiling and snapped around his neck.

"_Nid!"_ he protested.

"We got it!" Vignar exclaimed victoriously.

Selene approached Odahviing, who twisted and turned his neck, trying to get out of the trap, but it was too tight. _"Horvutah med kodaav,"_ he groaned.

"What did he say?" Brynjolf asked as he and the others gathered behind Selene.

"He said he's caught like a bear in a trap." She noticed Farengar slipping through the door and walking cautiously toward them.

"_Zok frini grind kind of grah drun viiki, Dovahkiin."_

"He said his eagerness to meet me in battle was his undoing."

"I salute your, hmm, low cunning in devising such a strategem," the dragon said in the common tongue. "You went to a great deal of trouble to put me in this position. Do you wish for a pet, perhaps? Show me off to your friends as Olaf of old did to my brother Numinex?"

"I need to know where Alduin is hiding."

Odahviing snickered. "Hiding. An apt turn of phrase; Alduin has indeed fled. He has only known fear once before, but your Thu'um struck terror into his heart. Many of us have come to question whether he is truly the strongest. One reason I answered your call was to see for myself. Your Thu'um is powerful. There are those who would follow you, Dovahkiin."

"_Dragons_ who would follow me?"

"_Grahk,_ yes."

"Well, that's disconcerting," Brynjolf muttered.

"Will you tell me where to find Alduin?"

"He has traveled to Sovngarde to regain his strength by devouring the mortal dead. His portal is at Skuldafn, one of his ancient fanes in the eastern mountains, and is guarded by those who remain loyal. Now, Dovahkiin. I have answered your question. Will you allow me to go free?"

"Not until Alduin is defeated."

"I see. Well, there is one minor detail I neglected to mention. You have the Thu'um of a dovah, but without the wings of one, you will never set foot in Skuldafn. I, however, could fly you there."

"Not a chance!" Brynjolf snapped.

"You expect me to just take you on your word?"

"Ah, you wound me, Dovahkiin! I may not tell the whole truth, but I am no liar."

"Not telling the whole truth _is_ lying," Brynjolf argued.

"Keeping information from you was not honorable. A thousand pardons. But go. See for yourself. I will be here...unless, of course, Alduin returns first."

Selene turned and looked at her husband and her friends. Brynjolf's face was red, and his eyes burned with fury. The others were equally grim.

"Let's go somewhere and talk," she said.

Vignar put a hand on her shoulder. "We'll just...keep him here until you decide what to do."

As they started to walk away, Farengar stepped forward. "Uh, sir, I'm so very glad to have this opportunity. Would you mind if I performed some, uh, tests on you?"

"Begone, mage! Do not test my promise to the Dovahkiin!"

"I assure you, you will not even notice me. Most of them are hardly painful at all. Surely you wouldn't miss a few scales or a small amount of blood."

"What are you doing back there?" Odahviing demanded as the court mage stepped around the yoke and started poking at his flanks. "Ah! _Yol!_" Fire spouted forth and almost caught Selene's party before they got out the door.

"Enough, fool!" Vignar shouted. "Leave it alone!"

"Come to Jorrvaskr," Vilkas instructed as they went back through the castle. "I want to look at a map."

They descended the steps to the Wind District and entered Jorrvaskr, then followed Vilkas to the Harbinger's quarters, where he surveyed a map of Skyrim that was pinned to the wall. He pointed to a spot far to the east of Riften. "Here it is," he said. "I thought I had seen it before."

"That's the steepest part of the Jeralls," Lydia declared. "There aren't any roads or paths up there."

"That's because nothing else is up there," said Aela.

"Perhaps Odahviing is right," Selene mused.

"No!" Brynjolf barked. "This is not going to happen!"

"What other choice do I have?"

"I don't know, but we'll come up with something."

"Selene, you know you can't trust him," said Farkas.

"Actually, I _don't_ know that. I can smell a lie, and he wasn't lying."

"But can you smell a lie on a _dragon?_ How many times has a dragon lied to you?"

"Farkas has a point, my love. You can't take Odahviing on his word."

"We took Paarthurnax for _his_ word."

"That was different."

"How?"

"For one thing, he's the leader of the Greybeards."

"And if he can change, who's to say others can't?"

Farkas shook his head. "No, he's going to get you up in the sky and drop you."

"Brother, you're not helping," Vilkas warned him.

"No? I think I'm helping a lot. Don't tell me you haven't considered the possibility."

Selene looked to each of the others. "We know what Brynjolf and Farkas think. What about the rest of you?"

"I may not be able to tell what a lie smells like on a dragon," Vilkas began, "but his tone, his words, and his expressions make me feel he is telling the truth."

"It's a risk," said Aela, "but we take risks every day. If it means a chance to fight Alduin, I say do it."

"Lydia?"

"No. I vote no."

"It's not a vote, love," Vilkas whispered.

"Shut up, dear. I vote no."

"Aela's right," Selene said. "It is a risk, but I still see no other choice. Lydia and Vilkas, if we don't come back, Breezehome is yours. We were going to give it to you as a wedding present anyway—" Brynjolf groaned and stormed away, and Selene chased after him. "Brynjolf, wait." He stopped and turned to her, and she placed her hands on his arms.

"Tell me you're not really considering this!" he pleaded.

"Love, you don't have to go."

"Do you think I'd let you go without me? I don't want you to go at all."

"Brynjolf, this is something we have to do. If that's where Alduin is, I need to go there. If I can't get there myself and Odahviing is willing to take me, then that's the way it has to be. We have to trust that he'll keep his word."

The others came down the hall. "He spoke of honor," Vilkas reminded him.

Brynjolf sighed and nodded. "Let's just hope he has some."

* * *

"You have reconsidered my offer?" the dragon asked when they approached him later that day. "You will release me if I promise to take you to Skuldafn?"

"Yes, I'll set you free if you take us to Skuldafn."

"It is wise to recognize when you only have one choice. You can trust me, Dovahkiin. I will not harm you." He looked over at Brynjolf. "But I can only carry one of you."

Brynjolf's scent went wild with emotions, all of them bad. He turned and walked away, and Selene found herself chasing him again. "I said I wouldn't let you go alone," he choked when she caught up to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting hot tears that streamed down his cheeks. "Selene, don't do this."

She placed her hands on either side of his face and looked up into his eyes. "It'll be okay, love. Do you know how I know? Because this was what I was meant to do. I was born to fight Alduin. Everything I have ever done has been to prepare me for this day. I can't fail. I won't. I have Kynareth and Akatosh watching over me, and I have luck on my side. If there was ever a time I needed Nocturnal's blessing, this is it."

"You were born to _fight_ Alduin. That doesn't mean you'll win. If you even get that far. What if Farkas is right and this dragon just wants to get you up in the sky so he can drop you?"

"You must have faith in me, love. I can't do this without you."

"But that's just it. I won't be there."

"You'll be here, waiting for me, giving me something to come back to. We can do this, love. It's just another job."

Not caring who was watching, he laid his head on her shoulder and sobbed, his body trembling and his hands gripping the fabric of her cape possessively; and tears fell down her cheeks as she held him. She had never seen him like this, and it broke her heart. She understood his apprehension; in all truth, she was terrified. But she knew what she had to do. She pulled back and wiped his tears, then kissed his damp cheeks and placed her lips on his. He held her tightly, his mouth greedily devouring hers as if it were the last time he would ever kiss her. Although she would never tell him, Selene had to admit it just might be the last time.

"I love you, wife," he whispered when their lips parted.

"I love you, too."

Brynjolf let go of her, and she nodded to the guard. "Open the trap."

"You're sure about that? It's your funeral. Seems like a really bad idea to me."

"Carry on, soldier," Vignar ordered. "It's all part of the Dragonborn's plan."

The guard went to the upper level and threw the lever that opened the trap. Odahviing, free at last, peered at Selene and her companions for a moment, then said, "I can smell your fear. But I will honor my promises." He turned and lumbered to the balcony. "I await your command, Dovahkiin."

Selene and the others followed him. Farkas caught her in a bear hug, and Vilkas took her from his brother's arms. After hugging Aela and Lydia as well, she turned to her husband and took his hands. "Trust me, okay?"

"I trust you, love."

"Wait for me?"

"No question."

"Don't worry," said Farkas, slapping Brynjolf on the back, "we'll take good care of him while you're gone. But you better come back."

"I will." She kissed Brynjolf once more, and when she pulled back he stepped between her and the dragon, still holding her hand.

He stood only inches from Odahviing's face and scowled at him. "Know this, dragon. If any harm comes to her, I will hunt you for the rest of my days."

"I will do my best to return her to you," Odahviing promised. "Now, Dovahkiin, are you ready to see the world as only a dovah can?"

"I'm ready."

"I warn you, once you have flown the skies of _Keizaal,_ you will envy the dov even more." Selene leg to of Brynjolf's hand, climbed onto the dragon's neck and wedged herself beneath his horns. "Onward! We take to the sky!"

With a lurch, Odahviing spread his wings and leapt into the air. Selene looked down to see the Great Porch of Dragonsreach shrinking behind her and Brynjolf standing at the rail, watching her go. _Please, Kynareth,_ she prayed silently, _let me see him again._

The chill wind whipped through her hair, but for the briefest of moments, she felt a warm breeze blow across her face. Kynareth was with her. It would be okay. It had to be.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	13. The Dragonborn's Tale 13: Zu'u Unslaad

The Dragonborn's Tale 13

Zu'u Unslaad

"This is amazing!" Selene whooped as she soared through the sky on Odahviing's back.

"Your dovah blood makes you suited for flight. Would that you had wings, no?"

"I probably wouldn't appreciate it as much if I could do it myself."

They passed the Throat of the World, and Selene noticed that several dragons were flying around the peak. "That's disturbing," she murmured.

"They gather to wait for the outcome. Who will come back, the Dovahkiin or the World-Eater? Even the dov have a vested interest in your quest."

The sky grew dark, and Selene's eyelids began to droop. She couldn't imagine how she could get sleepy riding on a dragon's back, but she did.

"Rest," said the dragon, as if he were reading her thoughts. "We will reach Skuldafn by sunrise and you must be ready.

"Don't drop me."

"You are safe with me," he assured her again.

She closed her eyes and managed to drift off to sleep, but her dreams were vivid and strange. She dreamt that she had her own wings, and she flew over Nirn with Brynjolf riding on her back, fighting some dragons and greeting others as friends. Occasionally the sky turned dark and Alduin loomed over her, but she drifted out of his path. She also dreamt of approaching a draugr deathlord who had no interest in fighting her because he was busy reading a copy of _The Lusty Argonian Maid_ and he just couldn't put the book down.

When she awoke, the sun was just rising in the east, blinding her as she looked toward the horizon. She shielded her eyes with her hand and looked below to see that they were just passing out of The Rift and over the mountains. She reached into her pack and pulled out some cheese and an apple, which she ate quickly and washed down with a bottle of mead. By the time Odahviing drifted down toward an isolated ruin, she was awake, energized, and ready for the battle ahead.

"Skuldafn," he noted as he circled the fane.

"What is that?" Selene asked, pointing to a column of white flame rising from one of the buildings.

"That is the portal to Sovngarde." He landed on a large, flat rock outside the ruin. "This is as far as I can take you. To go closer to the portal is a risk I am not yet willing to take. I will wait nearby for your return—or Alduin's."

"Thank you, Odahviing." Selene climbed down from the dragon's neck, adjusted her armor and her pack, and took her bow in hand. She walked across a short bridge toward the ruin as Odahviing took to the sky and disappeared over the mountains. Just as she reached the other side, two dragons attacked her. Fighting two of them at once was a challenge, but with the help of Dragonrend she was able to take them down without too much trouble. Oddly, she didn't absorb their souls.

She fought a few draugr deathlords as she explored the exterior of the ruin, and they seemed tougher than normal. Their Unrelenting Force Shouts were devastating, and she was sent flying across the rocks more than once. She sustained a painful bump on the head, some scrapes and bruises, and a shoulder wound she had to stitch herself before she finally opened the doors of Skuldafn Temple and stepped inside.

The interior of the temple was a comfort. It was just your standard, everyday Nordic ruin, complete with traps, draugr, puzzle locks, and treasure. She even found a dragon claw door, and a nearby draugr deathlord held the claw—a fine piece made of gold and diamonds. Brynjolf was particularly fond of the jeweled dragon claws, and she looked forward to taking this one home to him.

Selene sighed sadly. It hadn't yet been twenty-four hours since she had seen her husband, but it seemed so much longer. Having spent every waking moment together for months, they had become part of each other, and being here without him felt as though she were missing an arm. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend he was there with her. His scent, his body when he was fighting or lying with his arms and legs entangled with hers, his voice with that crazy made-up accent, the taste of his lips on hers, the gleam in his eye when he was contemplating mischief—all were just out of arms' reach. She looked down at her hand caressed the Bond of Matrimony on her finger, and realized that even now, she didn't feel alone. Some part of Brynjolf _was_ here with her and would always be when they couldn't be together. She'd had such a solitary existence before she met him, and it gave her great joy here in this ruin, surrounded by death and monsters, to know that she would never really be alone again.

Heartened, she worked the puzzle on the big door and inserted the claw key. When the panels dropped into the recess, she stuffed the claw into her knapsack and continued to the next room, where she found a Word Wall. This particular Word of Power allowed her to call lightning. She filed the shout away for future use.

Selene ascended a spiral staircase into a tower where at least one draugr awaited. She could hear its breathing. It always disturbed her how the draugr breathed. They were dead. How could they even draw breath? Then again, if they were dead, they shouldn't be walking either, so she guessed breathing wasn't that much of a stretch.

It had been hours since she had stopped to rest, so after she dispatched the draugr, she sat down next to some heavy, iron doors and pulled some meat, cheese, and mead from her pack. She ate her meal, then checked her shoulder wound, which was oozing slightly, so she drank a healing potion. She downed a stamina potion while she was at it to give her the energy to complete the rest of her journey. When she felt she was ready, she opened the iron doors and stepped outside.

She emerged from the temple on one of the upper levels of the ruin. A storm had come in, and night had fallen early in the mountains. Selene had excellent night vision, so seeing wasn't a problem, but the biting wind and snowflakes stung her cheeks. She tried to ignore the weather as she aimed at a draugr that stood guard just at the edge of the structure. Holding her breath, she released the arrow and shot the creature over the side.

As shot a second draugr, she became aware of a whirr that was not the winter wind. She looked up to see that the column of white flames was on top of the building she had emerged from. But the flames were not all that awaited her. A dragon lounged on a high pillar. He didn't see her; he seemed to be asleep. Selene nocked an arrow, aimed and shot; the dragon wailed and dropped straight to the ground. He hadn't been alone, however, and another dragon leapt into the air with a howl. He circled her, spitting ice and frost at her, which she just shook off. It wasn't any worse than what nature was already hurling at her. When he came around for another pass, the sent him her own Shout.

"_Joor...zah frul!"_

The dragon screeched, dropped nearby, and started to lumber toward her. "You will die at Skuldafn, pathetic mortal."

Without answering, she aimed her bow at his head. The arrow hit, and he howled, but he didn't die. He couldn't manage to rise, but he did spit more frost at her, stinging her eyes and leaving dozens of tiny cuts on her cheeks from the specks of ice.

"You'll have to do better than that," she said as she aimed another arrow. With this one, the dragon fell over and perished.

After fighting a couple more draugr, Selene found a wide staircase leading to the roof. More steps led to a small platform next to the white flames. A dragon priest occupied the platform, busy casting some sort of spell with a staff. The cacophony from the source of the white flames complemented Selene's exceptional stealth skills, and even the movement of the dragons hadn't alerted him to her presence. She nocked an arrow, aimed, and shot him in the back. He turned and croaked something in the old dragon language, then threw a fireball at her. She dodged it, but was a near miss; she felt the heat as it flew past her head. Thanking the gods for fire protection jewelry, she sent another arrow at him, and though he swiftly moved to the side, it still managed to lodge in his arm. He snarled and moved to pull the arrow out, and Selene took the opportunity to shoot again, this time hitting him in the head. He groaned and disintegrated into a pile of ash. The only thing left of him was a creepy mask that glowed with magic. It disturbed her, so she didn't study it too closely. She just stuffed it in her pack and ascended the stairs to the platform.

A round seal was set into the floor of the stand, and the priest's staff had been inserted into the center. Whether the staff caused the phenomenon before her was uncertain, but the tableau that lay beyond the platform was like nothing she had ever seen. The white flames emitted from a swirling abyss. Clouds of pink and blue churned and spun around the eddy along with bits of stone, tumbling, crushing together. The wind howled like a cyclone, but through it, Selene could hear the sound of distant singing.

There was no question what this was. It was Alduin's portal to Sovngarde.

She didn't spend a lot of time thinking about it. There was only one thing to do, and it wouldn't do to stand around fretting over it. Thus, she did what she had to do. She jumped into the vortex.

Selene wasn't sure when she blacked out, but when she came to, she was lying on her back. There was no pain, just a bit of dizziness. Even her shoulder wound and the little cuts on her face had stopped hurting. She didn't sit up but looked around carefully. She was on a dais at the top of a long flight of stairs. Enormous statues of robed figures flanked the dais and stood at various places by the staircase. Although she could see the bottom, she couldn't see any farther because a heavy mist hung in the air, obscuring all view. The sky was pink, swirling, and round, like she was lying at the bottom of a huge cylinder. A warm breeze blew across the dais, soughing softly, an accompaniment to the victorious song belted out by an unseen heavenly choir. As she sat up, she recognized some of the words of the song.

_Dovakhiin, Dovakhiin, naal ok zin los vahriin!_

Did they know she was here? Were they expecting her and singing to welcome her? Or was it just coincidence? As she stood up and dusted herself off, she decided to go with coincidence. It weighed less on the mind.

Distant thunder rumbled as Selene started down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she used the Clear Skies shout to dissipate the mist, and she saw a glorious castle in the distance. But the fog didn't stay clear for long. After only a few moments, it drifted back in along with the howl of a dragon and human screams.

"Crap," she muttered before Shouting again. When the air was clear, she marched on.

A Stormcloak soldier rushed toward her. "Turn back, Stormblade! Terror awaits you in the mist. Vain is all courage against the peril that guards the way."

"What is the mist? Is it normal?"

"It is not of Sovngarde. I cannot find my way to the Hall of Valor. Can you lead me?"

"Aye, just stay close to me."

"Beware, Stormblade. Alduin hunts the lost souls snared in this shadowed valley."

"Don't worry, soldier. I'm here to defeat Alduin. Let's go."

Selene led the soldier down the path, and when the mist appeared again, she took a breath for a Shout; but before she could utter the Words of Power, the black dragon appeared and snapped the soldier up. The soul's scream was cut short as Alduin devoured it. Selene unslung her bow and drew an arrow, but he was too fast. He flew away before she could get off a good shot. After that, she kept her bow in her hand.

At the bottom of another dais like the one she had landed on, Selene saw a familiar face. "Kodlak? Is that you?"

"Greetings, Companion."

"Are you lost?"

"Aye. When I woke from cold death, my doom was lifted. There was Shor's Hall, my heart's desire. But now I wander, weary and lost, and the hunter becomes the hunted. Once such a brave warrior, I now cower in fear as the World-Eater seeks to devour my soul."

"Follow me. I'll get you to the Hall of Valor."

Kodlak shook his head. "I will wait here. The mist seems to shy away from the steps."

Selene nodded her understanding. "I'll fix it, Kodlak. You will reach the Hall of Valor this day."

"Gods be with you, girl."

As Selene navigated the path, she cleared more mist and encountered more souls, all lost and terrified. Alduin flew over occasionally, taunting her. The path finally came to an end at the foot of a wide bridge made of the skeleton of some immense creature. She could see the castle clearly now, Shor's Hall, waiting across the bridge with vaulted roofs, high, narrow windows, and massive doors. An imposing man stood at the entrance to the bridge. Farkas and Vilkas towered over her by a foot, but this man made them look small. He walked out to meet her.

"What brings you, wayfarer grim, to wander here in Sovngarde?"

"I pursue Alduin, the World-Eater."

"A fateful errand. No few have chafed to face the Worm since he first set his soul snare, but Shor restrained our wrathful onslaught. Perhaps it was for you he waited."

"Who are you?"

"I am Tsun, Shield-Thane to Shor. I guard the Whalebone Bridge and determine if a soul is worthy to enter Shor's lofty hall."

"May I enter?"

Tsun observed her critically. "No shade are you. By what right do you request entry?"

"By right of birth. I am Dragonborn."

Tsun smiled. "Ah! It has been long since I faced a doom-driven hero of the Dragon Blood."

"So can I enter?"

"Living or dead, by decree of Shor, none may pass 'til I judge them worthy by the warrior's test." With that, he attacked her.

Tsun's axe was bigger than she was, and though she managed to get by without being sliced in two, the axe knocked her several yards back. She stood and Shouted Fire Breath at him, nocking and firing an arrow at the same time. The huge warrior barely noticed when the missile hit him in the chest. He came at her, swinging his axe, and Selene backed away and shot another arrow at him. He laughed and continued his pursuit. She spit fire at him again, and his hair and armor burst into flames. The fire only lasted a moment before dying away, and it apparently had done no damage. She expected another attack, but he simply smiled and put the axe away.

"You fought well, Dovahkiin. You are worthy. May Shor's favor follow you and your errand."

He stood aside, and Selene walked across the bridge, which was less precarious than she would have thought. Whalebone. She had never actually seen a whale. Who knew they were so big? Shor's Hall stood on an island that floated high above the ocean below. The front doors were maybe fifty feet tall but opened easily, and she stepped into a cavernous dining hall. It was warm, brightly lit, and festive, and the ubiquitous singing was louder here, although she still didn't see the choir. Two cows were roasting on a spit in the center of the long hall, and many tables were piled with food and wine. Huge casks of ale and mead stood at one end, and at the other, a group of warriors stood in a loose circle around a pair engaged in a brutal sword fight. The scene reminded her of the first time she had walked into Jorrvaskr, but she doubted Skjor would be here to greet her. He was hunting with Hircine.

A group stood nearby, drinking and reveling, and Selene recognized the weapon slung across the back of one of the men. It was Wuuthrad. As if just thinking of him got his attention, Ysgramor looked up and smiled, then walked over to the steps where she stood. He was blond, rugged, and muscular, with the presence of someone who was used to being the center of attention.

"Welcome, Dragonborn!" he boomed. "We have waited for you. By Shor's command, we ventured not into the vale's dark mist to battle the World-Eater. Three now await your word to loose their fury on the perilous foe: Gormlaith, the fearless, glad-hearted in battle; Hakon, the valiant, heavy-handed warrior; and Felldir, the old, far-seeing and grim. Seek their counsel and meet your destiny." He clapped a friendly hand on her shoulder and turned away.

Selene walked through the hall, trying to figure out how she would know the three warriors who waited for her. She had seen them before, of course, when she had read the Elder Scroll, but their faces had been obscured. Perhaps they would know her when they saw her. As she wandered past one of the tables, someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned, and her heart all but burst from her chest.

The young man who stood before her was about fifteen years old, unremarkable but not unattractive, with sandy hair and gray eyes that held a wicked glint. She had seen that crooked smile a million times.

"Ben!" she cried, reaching for her adopted brother and embracing him warmly.

He pulled back and looked her over. "Ysmir's beard, you're all grown up. And is that a Bond of Matrimony on your hand?"

"Did you think I would stay seventeen forever?"

"No, but who would marry _you_? And now I hear you're the Dragonborn. I bet you think you're pretty special, eh?"

Selene stood back and crossed her arms. "Uh-huh. And just how did _you_ end up on Sovngarde? I would say the gods who decide where we spend the afterlife really slipped up."

"I died saving your life, big sister. The blade that went through me was meant for you."

The grin dropped from Selene's face. "Oh, Ben. I didn't know."

Ben waved a dismissive hand. "Hey, it's nothing. They like me here, and I'm not the only thief. Turns out there are quite a few of us with some honor. Besides, if I wasn't here, I'd have to follow you all over Skyrim, and I was not cut out for fighting dragons. So who _did_ marry you?"

"A thief, of course. He picked my pocket, I turned around and picked _his_ pocket, and wackiness ensued."

"Are you happy?"

"With Brynjolf? Gloriously. Hey, remember the Thieves Guild in Riften?" She leaned in and whispered, "I'm sort of leading them now. Oh, and do you remember Vipir from the orphanage? He's in the Guild, too."

"Well, it's a comfort to know you haven't grown _too_ respectable." He placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm so proud of you, sister."

"Why, because I'm Dragonborn? I didn't choose it, you know. It chose me."

"Aye, but that doesn't mean you're strong enough to handle it. But you are. You were always the strong one."

"Ben, I need to find Gormlaith, Hakon, and Felldir. Do you know who they are?"

"Of course. Everybody knows who they are. I'll take you to meet them."

He led her to the other end of the hall where three warriors stood arguing, and Selene realized she would have recognized them without Ben's help. Gormlaith was tall, blonde and pretty behind fearsome warpaint. Felldir was gray and wise, although not as old as she had expected, his silvery eyes as piercing as Farkas's and Vilkas's. Hakon was barrel-chested and grim with warrior's braids hanging from shaggy, red hair. When Selene and Ben approached, Gormlaith drew her sword eagerly.

"At long last! Alduin's doom is now ours to seal! Just speak the word, Dovahkiin!"

"Hold, comrades," warned Felldir. "Let us counsel take before battle is blindly joined."

Ben patted Selene on the shoulder and started to walk away, but she turned from the ancient Nords and grabbed him up in another hug. "It was so good to see you, little brother," she whispered tenderly.

"And you. I hope to see you again when your days on Nirn come to an end." He kissed her on the cheek, then pulled away and left Selene with the three heroes.

"Your brother," Felldir observed.

"One who sacrificed his life for me, and I never even knew it."

"He has much honor. Now. Stand you ready to face the World-Eater?"

"Aye."

"Good. Alduin's mist is more than a soul snare. It is his shield and cloak."

"The coward fears you, Dovahkiin," said Hakon.

"Then we drive away the mists so he can't hide," she declared. "Do you know the Clear Skies Shout?"

"Indeed," Felldir confirmed. "We shall bring our Voices together and blast the mist."

"To battle!" Gormlaith cried as she turned and ran toward the towering doors. The others drew their weapons, and Selene took her bow in hand and followed them out.

They ran from the Hall of Valor across the Whalebone Bridge, pulling up short where the mists encroached.

"Divines be with us," Selene whispered.

"Clear Skies!" Gormlaith instructed. "Let us combine our Shouts!"

"_Lok vah koor!"_ the three of them cried together. With a thundering _BANG,_ the mists dissipated. They waited in silence for Alduin to answer their call. He responded with a Shout of his own.

"_Ven mul riik!"_

The mists once again filled in the air, roiling out of nothingness to obscure their vision.

"Again!" Selene cried.

"_Lok...vah koor!"_ Selene's ears ached with the great explosion of sound. Again the mists dispersed, and again, Alduin answered with a Shout that brought them back.

"Does his strength have no end?" Hakon lamented. "Is our struggle in vain?"

"Stand fast," Gormlaith encouraged him. "His strength is failing. Once more, and his might will be broken."

Selene wondered how the warrior could possibly know that, but she Shouted with them again anyway. Alduin did not respond this time and the valley stayed clear, but he didn't come. Rage boiled up inside her. "That coward went back to Nirn," she grumbled through gritted teeth.

"No, he will appear," Felldir insisted. "Great is his pride, and he will not be intimidated by men. He will come."

As if to prove his point, Alduin howled and the ground shook. After a moment, the black figure flew from behind a nearby peak. Selene's heart hammered, but she felt no fear. Perhaps Gormlaith's enthusiasm was contagious, because she was suddenly bursting with energy, lust for battle flowing through her veins. She had never wanted to be Dragonborn, never wanted to fight Alduin. It was just something she had to do. But now, the desire to meet him was practically an ache. She was Dragonborn, and she and her companions would see Alduin's end this day.

"Stand together, friends!" she cried. "Alduin, come to meet your death!"

"For Skyrim!" Gormlaith whooped. "For Shor! For Sovngarde's freedom!"

As Alduin flew over, Gormlaith and Hakon threw Unrelenting Force Shouts at him, and Selene Shouted Dragonrend. Alduin screamed and faltered, but he didn't fall. He just spat fire at them and flew away as Selene and Gormlaith pelted with him with arrows. They fought for hours, taunting each other, yelling insults, Alduin swooping in to spit fire and the warriors hurling Shouts, spells and arrows at him; but Alduin had grown strong on the souls he had devoured, and he wore down slowly. But so did the warriors. Selene didn't know what powered the souls she stood with, but she ran on pure adrenaline as she Shouted time and again, ducked fire blasts, and dodged the storm of flaming rocks Alduin directed at them.

"You are persistent, Dovahkiin," Alduin said as he stopped before her. "A fine slave you would have—"

"_Joor zah frul!"_

The Shout hit him full-on, and he collapsed with a painful groan, evidently weaker than they had thought. Selene and Gormlaith propelled a barrage of arrows at him while Hakon and Felldir hacked at him with their axe and sword. Alduin snapped half-heartedly at them, but what little strength he had left finally failed him. He threw back his head and wailed.

"_Zu'u unslaad! _I am eternal! I shall not die!" He keened and shook his head in desperate denial as veins of red light feathered throughout his body. He stood to full height, his wings splayed out to his sides, baying with his last defiant breath as his body exploded into a million pieces. Flame and ash swirled around them, the ear-piercing wind whistling, until everything that Alduin was abruptly blinked out of existence.

For a moment, silence filled Sovngarde. The choir stopped singing, and the wind stopped blowing. It was just as it had been when they had sent him forward in time. Finally the choir began to sing again, the breeze picked up, and the dead began to filter in from throughout the valley.

Selene turned to look at her companions, who still stared at the space where the World Eater had once stood, and they turned to regard her with triumphant grins.

"All hail the Dragonborn!" Gormlaith shouted, and the others chimed in with her. "All hail the Dragonborn! Hail her with great praise!"

Tsun came down the steps from the Whalebone Bridge and stood before her. "A mighty deed, Dragonborn. They will sing of this battle in Shor's Hall forever. But you live, and you cannot abide in Sovngarde for long. When you have completed your count of days, I may welcome you again with glad friendship."

"Thank you, Tsun." Selene turned to the warriors. "This was not my victory. It was ours. Thank you all."

Hakon grasped her hand. "We will meet again, my friend."

Gormlaith threw her arms around her. "Aye! I look forward to sharing stories of our valiant deeds!"

"As do I, but I don't know if this is where I belong. I have obligations to others."

"Concessions must be made for the Dragonborn," Tsun reminded her.

Felldir placed a hand on her shoulder. "When the time comes, you will make the choice that is best for you."

"When you are ready to rejoin the living," said Tsun, "just bid me so and I will send you back. I send you with a gift from my lord Shor, a Shout that will bring one of these heroes to you in your time of need."

"I'm ready."

"_Hun kaal zoor!"_ Tsun Shouted.

With that, darkness filled Selene's vision.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	14. The Dragonborn's Tale 14: Big News

The Dragonborn's Tale 14

Big News

In what seemed like only an instant, Selene was standing outside Skuldafn with Odahviing.

"Oh!" she exclaimed with a start.

"Welcome back, Dovahkiin."

"How did I get here?"

"You simply appeared, no doubt sent back from Sovngarde by the gods. Your Thu'um is the greatest, Dovahkiin. I owe you all allegiance, and I await your command."

"Then take me home." She climbed onto his neck, and he took flight.

As they passed the Throat of the World in the wee hours of the morning, they were joined by at least a dozen dragons.

"Land here for a moment, my friend," Selene requested, and Odahviing flew low over the mountain and came to rest before the Word Wall, where Paarthurnax sat peering at them. The other dragons landed on the rocks surrounding the wall and began to chant.

"Alduin is fallen!"

"The mighty overlord vanquished!"

"Alduin is fallen!"

"The Dovahkiin his slayer!"

"Alduin is fallen!"

"His Thu'um is silenced!"

"Alduin is fallen!"

"All hail Dovahkiin!"

"Greetings, Dovahkiin," Paarthurnax said amicably.

"Greetings, Master. It seems we've gained some allies."

"You speak true. Not all dragons will be your enemy now, Dovahkiin. Many have turned from Alduin and have come to learn the Way of the Voice. I fear many will falter, however."

Selene turned to face the other dragons. "Hail, friends!" she called. "Remember this day, the day you were freed of the World-Eater's tyranny. Follow Paarthurnax, not as a master but as a mentor. Prove to the world that dragon, man, and mer can live in harmony; but know this: if you cause harm to man or mer, I will vanquish you."

"All hail the Dovahkiin!" they chanted.

Selene turned back to Paarthurnax. "I can't promise others will be as forgiving as I am, especially the Blades. They sent me to kill you."

"The Blades are wise not to trust me. We were made to dominate. The will to power is in our blood. You feel it in yourself, do you not? But which is better: to be born good or to overcome one's evil nature through great effort?"

"That's why I'm giving these dragons a chance and why I won't harm you. I don't expect the Blades to ever reach this peak, but just beware."

"I will, Dovahkiin. If you need anything from me, I will be here. I do so hope to see you again."

"And I, you. Goodbye, Master." She turned to Odahviing, who waited nearby. "You ready?"

"Let us leave this place." She climbed on the red dragon's back; he nodded to Paarthurnax and then took flight.

"Will you go back to Paarthurnax?" she asked when they were on their way back to Dragonsreach.

"I will endeavor not to cause harm to you and yours, but I will not go to Paarthurnax. The teachings of the Way of the Voice are too strict. I will go my own way. But if you ever need me, you need only call, and I will come to your aid."

* * *

Only Vignar and a few guards were on the Great Porch when Odahviing dropped her off just after dawn. She said goodbye to Odahviing and approached the jarl, who grasped her shoulders.

"You did it, Dragonborn! A true hero. The world owes you a great debt."

"I'd settle for a tankard of mead and a nap," she replied with a chuckle. "Any idea where my husband is?"

"They've been keeping him busy at Jorrvaskr. I'd try there."

"Thanks, my Jarl." She dashed through the palace, down the stairs, and up to Jorrvaskr, where she met Brynjolf coming through the door. He threw his arms around her and picked her up, and she hugged him tightly. "I missed you so much!"

"I missed you, too, although the Companions wouldn't let me sit around and fret."

Selene looked around and saw Lydia, Vilkas, Farkas, and Aela standing on the steps down into the mead hall; she was surprised to see Karliah with them. "Karliah? What are you doing here?" she asked the Dunmer as she reached out to hug her.

"Are you kidding? I came as quickly as I could."

"We all felt it when you went to Sovngarde," Brynjolf told her.

"You what?"

"The Nightingales and the pack. It was as though a presence we weren't really aware of just disappeared. It felt as if you had died."

"Oh, my."

"When I felt you disappear, all I could think of was getting to Brynjolf," said Karliah. "I went through the Twilight Sepulcher, found a horse to steal, and came right here. You were back in Nirn before I made it."

"We knew when you killed Alduin, too," Farkas mentioned. "At least, we _think_ that's what it was. There was this big rumble of thunder across the whole sky, which was completely clear. Not long after that was when we felt you again."

"And how did _you_ handle my disappearance?" she asked Brynjolf.

"Not well," he admitted.

"Don't worry," said Farkas. "We kept him real busy while you were gone."

"They did. They trained with me a lot and got me good and drunk."

"The two most important things in the life of a Companion," Lydia said with a smile.

"You look tired, sister," Aela noted.

"I am."

"Get some rest," Karliah instructed her. "I'm staying at the Bannered Mare. Come find me later and we'll celebrate."

Selene and Brynjolf bid farewell to their friends and headed back toward Breezehome. Several people stopped them along the way to offer their congratulations. They finally made it to the house, and Selene dropped her bow, quiver, and knapsack on the floor with relief. Then she reached for her husband. He took her in his arms and held her closely, and she laid her head on his shoulder and relished his touch.

"You feel so wonderful," she whispered.

"I thought I would never hold you again."

She pulled back and kissed him, opening her mouth to his and drinking him in, moaning softly. She pulled off her gloves, and he helped her out of her cuirass; then she tugged on his tunic and slipped it over his head. Boots and breeches were discarded as well, and they lay down on the rug and embraced each other. Selene reached between his legs, and Brynjolf gasped as she stroked him. "No teasing today," she pleaded, "I just want you inside me."

She lay on her back, and Brynjolf knelt between her legs and slipped inside her. She played her hands over his muscular back and bottom and moaned, the heat growing with every thrust. He whispered words of love in her ear and urged her to scream for him, driving harder and more insistently into her until her moans became cries of pleasure. Ecstasy surged through her, and she dug her nails into his back and moved in tandem with him as his moans escalated to match hers. Her climax was still pulsing when he released inside her, throwing back his head and crying out her name. Selene held him as he rode the wave of rapture until he finally relaxed. He lay on top of her, breathless and spent, and Selene stroked his back and kissed his cheek. He rose up and placed his lips on hers.

"I love you, wife," he whispered.

"I love you, too." He moved off and lay on his back, and Selene curled under his arm and laid her head on his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was hypnotic, and she found herself drifting. "We should probably move upstairs," she said with a yawn. "I think I may fall asleep."

The next thing she knew, she was in bed, dressed in her small clothes and Brynjolf's tunic, and he was asking her if she wanted anything to eat. She was so tired, she barely even looked up. "I'll eat in a little while," she muttered. "I'm not ready to get up."

And so she slept. She was vaguely aware of Brynjolf sitting next to her, lying down from time to time, and occasionally offering her a drink of water, but she was so tired, her body so heavy, that she wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep. After what was surely all night, she finally opened her eyes and sat up.

"I was starting to think you were going to sleep forever," Brynjolf said. He sat next to her, book in his lap.

"Why? How long did I sleep?"

"Four days."

Selene's mouth dropped open. "You're kidding."

"I figured you needed to catch up on all the rest you missed since you started out to defeat Alduin, so I just let you sleep. Karliah left a couple of days ago, saying you were in good hands and she needed to get back. I think she just missed Rune. Are you hungry?"

"Famished."

She followed him downstairs, where he cooked scrambled eggs, and they sat at the table with the eggs, some bread, cheese, and dried beef, washing it all down with warm mead. Selene ate everything he put in front of her and still wanted more. She got up and dug through the pantry, produced a couple of apples, and ate them as well.

"What now?" Brynjolf asked as she finished the second apple.

"Well, I desperately want a bath. After that, I think we should go to Windhelm. The moot is a fortnight away, and Ulfric will want to prepare. Besides, we have a house to break in. We can rest and relax there for a few days before we have to leave for Solitude."

"Do you still want to give Lydia and Vilkas Breezehome?"

Selene nodded. "They go back and forth between here and Jorrvaskr, and I know it's inconvenient for them. We're hardly ever here; _we_ can stay at Jorrvaskr when we're in town and leave the house to them."

"Sounds good to me. We can talk to them about it today, box up our things, and leave for Windhelm tomorrow."

"First, I have plans for you." She took his hand, pulled him up from his chair and led him back up toward the bedroom.

Brynjolf sighed heavily. "That's all you want from me. I'm nothing but a sex toy to you."

Selene giggled. "You're so full of shit."

He stopped and pulled her to him. "You haven't said that in a long time. I missed it. I missed _you."_

"I won't go away again."

"I don't mean just the last few days."

"I know what you meant. I didn't even realize I had pulled away, but I won't shut you out again. I promise."

* * *

It was just past lunchtime when the Windhelm guard let Selene and Brynjolf into Hjerim for the first time and handed Selene the keys. Jorleif and his men had done an excellent job cleaning and furnishing the house, and she was glad. She didn't have the time or the inclination to decorate a house where they would only spend a small portion of their time. Everything looked great, but they didn't spend a lot of time looking around. Brynjolf's query, "Where's the bedroom?" ended their tour, and they spent the rest of the day and night breaking the new bed in.

Selene couldn't get enough of her husband. Alduin had preoccupied most of her time and energy for months and hadn't left room for much else. But the World-Eater and the baggage that came with him were gone now, and she found many hopes, dreams, and pleasures that had been set aside beginning to catch her attention again. Although she had never stopped loving Brynjolf—nowhere near it—she found herself falling for him all over again, and he was doing the same. They flirted, teased, and played, and they made love like they never had before. It was with great reluctance that they got up and dressed when morning came.

Claiming no interest in what would surely be a day of "political crap," Brynjolf stayed at the house when Selene left for the Palace of the Kings. When she walked out the door, she found her guard had been joined by two others. A pair flanked the door, and the third stood at the top of the steps leading down to the walkway below.

The one who had let her in yesterday—Wyl, she thought his name was—nodded. "Good morning, Stormblade."

"Is all this security really necessary?" Selene asked, assuming they had increased the guard simply because she was in the house.

"I'm afraid so, my lady. Oslaf will escort you to the palace, and you'll be briefed there."

Oslaf, the guard on the steps, drew his war axe and remained extra-vigilant as he led Selene to the palace. She noticed that security was heavy around the Shatter-Shield house as well. At the palace, she found the guard had also tripled. Selene wasted no time getting inside to Ulfric, who paced back and forth in the war room, arguing with Galmar and Ralof, who was wearing the bearskin uniform of a Stormcloak officer.

"We have already postponed the moot once," the jarl growled. "I'll not request to put it off again. Besides, it's too late. How many have already left for Solitude?"

"Then we'll track them down on the road," Galmar declared.

"It's not just the jarls," Ralof reminded the housecarl. "Every noble in Skyrim will want to be present for the coronation."

"It's too dangerous for Ulfric to leave the palace at this time!"

"Staying at the palace didn't stop this attack, now, did it?" said Ulfric. "We've been through this before, Galmar. You know I refuse to hide behind the palace walls."

"What happened?" Selene broke in.

"An attempt was made on the jarl's life last night," Ralof told her.

"And now Galmar wants to postpone the moot again," Ulfric added.

"Ralof?" Selene asked.

Ralof shook his head. "Too much has already been put in place. I believe with a change in our security plan, we'll be fine."

"I'm not willing to take that risk!" Galmar bellowed.

"It's not your choice," Ralof replied firmly.

"He's going to be more of a target when he becomes High King anyway," Selene pointed out. "You'll have to get used to incidents like this and last-minute changes in strategy." She looked quickly at Ralof. "Wait, are you Captain of the Guard?"

Ralof smiled proudly. "Promotion."

"Don't change the subject!" Galmar blustered.

Selene smiled at Galmar. "You are in such a state! Take a breath; calm down." She turned to Ulfric. "I'm assuming this argument has been going on for several hours?"

"You're correct."

"And there's no point in my trying to talk you into staying here?"

Ulfric glared her in the eye. "None."

"Do you trust Ralof to keep you safe?"

"With my life."

"It just might come to that!" Galmar shouted.

"Then that's what it will be." Selene sighed with frustration, and Ulfric raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me _you_ think I should stay."

"You're right in saying staying here isn't as safe as Galmar would like, but there will be so many people in Solitude."

"That won't change if we put it off another half a year."

"No, it won't. I trust Ralof with my life, too, so Ulfric, if you're set on this, you're the jarl, and we'll obey."

"Damn it!" Galmar snarled, storming from the room.

"Did I miss something?" Selene asked. "He's even more worked up than usual."

Ulfric looked over at Ralof, who nodded and left the room, and then back at Selene. "Galmar took an arrow for me yesterday."

Selene's mouth dropped open. "An archer got all the way into the palace?"

"To the training yard wall."

"He didn't look hurt."

"He wasn't, not badly. His armor took the brunt of it."

"But there's more to it."

"Dagmar has been pushing him to retire."

"His wife? She's never pushed him to do _anything_."

"Aye, she's kept so quiet all these years, half of Windhelm didn't even know he was married, but now she speaks. He turned sixty a month ago, and she insists Galmar is getting too old to defend me and himself properly."

"I'll bet yesterday's events went over well in the Stone-Fist household."

"I believe she suggested that if he couldn't protect me here, he couldn't protect me on the road."

"But he _did_ protect you here."

"It doesn't matter; I've made my decision, and they will both abide by it. We will go through with this." Ulfric paused and studied her face, weighing his words. "There is something else I need to discuss with you."

"What is it?"

"I'm to wed at summer's end."

The announcement hit Selene like a punch in the gut. For a moment, it was as if all the air had been knocked from her lungs. When she did draw breath, it came in the form of a sob, and then tears started streaming down her cheeks. Ulfric wrapped his arms around her, and she laid her head on his chest while she wept. No coherent thoughts went through her mind, only sadness and loss. When she had thoroughly soaked his tunic, she came back to herself and realized what she was doing. She pulled back, not meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I reacted that way. I guess even after all that has happened, I still tend to think of you as mine."

He reached out and raised her chin gently. "I _am_ yours," he confessed, gazing into her eyes earnestly, "and I always will be. But I'm a practical man. You married another, and I need an heir."

"I understand, Ulfric. I really do, and I want you to be happy. The news is just very fresh. Who is it?"

"Nilsine Shatter-Shield."

"That explains all the guards around her house. I like Nilsine; she's a sweet girl. So she'll be going to Solitude with us?"

"Aye."

Selene nodded and stepped back. "I, uh, know you probably want to discuss the moot, but I need some time, Ulfric. I'll be back later today."

"Take your time, Selene."

Without a word, she turned and left the war room, heading back to Hjerim to get her priorities straight.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	15. The Dragonborn's Tale 15: Justice

The Dragonborn's Tale 15

Justice

Solitude was...crowded. Ralof had done his job, though, and they got Ulfric from the Palace of the Kings to the Blue Palace without incident. They arrived the day before the Moot, just ahead of Laila Law-Giver, who was last. Jarl Elisif put most of her guests up in the palace, but Selene and Brynjolf chose to stay at Proudspire Manor, where they were more comfortable. Besides, they had guests of their own. Half the Thieves Guild had turned up to reap the bounty afforded by all those wealthy people congregating for the coronation, which was to be held the day after the Moot. Selene also had a special project in mind for the Guild.

"I want you to steal something for me," she told Brynjolf, Karliah, Rune, Cynric, Thrynn, and Vipir as they lounged around the kitchen drinking mead and wine. "It's a little out of your bailiwick, but I'm hoping that won't be a problem. If it is, trust me, you'll be well compensated." When she told them the target and the plan, her thieves were quite enthusiastic about the job.

When Selene walked into the front door of the Blue Palace the next morning, she was met by an Altmer in golden elven armor, who stepped forward and handed her a sealed letter before she even realized what was happening. "From the Emissary," he said curtly, then nodded, clicking his heels together, and left the palace. Selene glared at the guards standing nearby.

"He promised only to deliver the letter," one of them said.

"He shouldn't have gotten into the palace at all," she rebuked him.

"My apologies, Stormblade. But they haven't been officially banned from the palace, so we didn't see a problem."

"That's a problem in itself. It's not exactly business as usual today, gentlemen." She stepped past them and headed for the main dining room, which was set up for the Moot. Eighteen chairs stood around the long table, each with a place setting, a small journal, an inkwell, and a quill before it on the table. Place cards indicated where each representative would sit. Off to the side, a grand breakfast buffet had been set on several tables lining the wall. Vignar was seated at the head of the table, already munching on bacon and cheese and talking with Elisif, who sat a couple of seats to his left. Olfina and Falk chatted at one of the buffet tables. Selene said good morning, grabbed a sweetroll and some warm mead, and sat down in her designated place to the left of Ulfric's, which was at the other end of the table. She broke the seal on the letter and read.

_You and I have unfinished business, little one. E_

Selene chuckled mirthlessly and shook her head. Only Elenwen would have the gall to risk a soldier's life just to taunt her. "Has anybody seen Ralof?" she asked the others.

"Last I saw him, he was outside Ulfric's suite," said Vignar. "Why? There a problem?"

Selene got up from her seat. "Nothing we can't handle."

She met Ulfric and Ralof coming through the door, and she took Ralof's arm and pulled him aside as Ulfric went to the buffet. "Thought you might want to know your guards let a Thalmor soldier into the palace this morning."

Ralof's eyes widened. "What?" The look of shock quickly evolved into one of anger, and he said, "I'll have their heads on pikes. Who was it?"

Selene shrugged. "I've seen them before, but I don't know their names. Three guards on the front door. They said they didn't know the Thalmor weren't welcome."

"Why would they think that?"

"Perhaps because Elisif still allows them to roam free in Solitude and the Blue Palace."

The captain of the guard rolled his eyes. "I'll take care of that right away."

Ralof grumbled as he stalked from the room, and Selene sat down next to Ulfric and dropped the note on the table in front of him. Ulfric's scent flooded with rage as he read it. "I have reached the limit of my endurance with that godsdamn elf," he muttered.

"I'll take care of it, Ulfric."

The others trickled in and broke their fast, making some small talk but mostly bombarding Selene with questions about riding dragons and her battle with Alduin. She patiently retold the story for the hundredth time and answered all their questions, bowing her head graciously when they extolled her virtues.

"You're a true hero, Dragonborn," said Jarl Laila.

"What? I was 'Selene' last time we spoke."

"You're correct, my friend. I apologize."

"Well, then!" Vignar piped up. "Are we ready to get this Moot started?" The others agreed, and he slammed a gavel on the table. Olfina dipped her quill in her inkwell, ready to take the minutes of the meeting, and others prepared their quills as well, planning to make their own notes. "Very well. As the eldest jarl in attendance, I call this meeting to order. This Moot to choose the High King of Skyrim, taking place the First of Rain's Hand, Fourth Era Two-Oh-Five. In attendance are myself—Vignar Gray-Mane, Jarl of Whiterun—along with my housecarl, Olfina Gray-Mane. Representing Haafingar, our host, Elisif the Fair, accompanied by her Steward, Falk Firebeard. For Falkreath, Dengeir of Stuhn is present with—wait, I don't know this one. What's your name, my dear?"

"I'm Rayya, my jarl," said the Redguard woman who sat next to Falkreath's jarl.

"Rayya. His housecarl?"

"No, sir, just a housecarl in his court."

"Ah. Well, then. Falkreath housecarl Rayya. Skald the Elder represents The Pale, and his lieutenant is his housecarl, Jod. From The Reach, we have Thongvor Silver-Blood and his brother, Thonar Silver-Blood. Sorli the Builder represents Hjaalmarch and is accompanied by her housecarl Teeba-Ei. Then we have Laila Law-Giver and her housecarl Unmid Snow-Shod from The Rift. Last but not least is Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Eastmarch, accompanied by Selene Stormblade, also known as the Dragonborn, his Thane. And _my_ Thane, truth be known. Tell me, Dragonborn, how many thanehoods do you have?"

"Three, Jarl. I'm also Thane of Haafingar."

"Ha-ha! Congratulations! All right. I'm not gonna make a big speech; nobody wants to hear me blather on. I'll just remind everybody of the procedures. Only jarls may make nominations and vote, but lieutenants may second any motions and participate in the discussion. I will ask for nominations; then we'll discuss and vote. You are allowed to nominate yourself, and the jarls can call for a vote at any time. Election requires a two-thirds majority." He smiled smugly. "I don't expect this to take very long. Any questions?" No one responded. "Comments?"

Thonar Silver-Blood raised a hand. "I would like to take this opportunity to remind Jarls Dengeir and Sorli that this is a _Nord_ gathering."

"Now, wait just a minute—" Sorli began.

"Calm down, Sorli," Vignar interrupted, "don't get your bloomers in a twist. Thonar, this is _not_ a Nord gathering; it is a meeting of jarls and their lieutenants to decide on the next High King of Skyrim. The Blue Palace will not crumble beneath our feet because we have a Redguard and an Argonian present, so just shut up. Does anybody have any _real_ business?" When no one answered, he said, "Very good. We'll open up the table for nominations."

"I nominate Ulfric Stormcloak for High King," said Laila.

"I second," Selene threw in.

Vignar sat silently, waiting for any other nominations, but no one spoke up. Selene watched Elisif carefully, expecting her to nominate herself, but she stayed quiet. Falk nudged the petite jarl gently, but she shook her head.

"Elisif, do you have something to say?" Vignar asked her.

"No, Vignar."

"No one else, then? All right, let's open the table for discussion."

"There's nothing to discuss!" growled Skald. The elderly jarl slapped the table. "We only have one nominee; let's just vote and be done with it."

Vignar ignored him. "Anyone?"

"I must speak my mind," Falk Firebeard claimed. "While Jarl Elisif has sworn fealty to Ulfric and has refused to accept a nomination for High Queen, it must go on record that she has done so under duress. Ulfric Stormcloak literally held a sword to her throat and demanded her allegiance."

"As would any conqueror," Unmid Snow-Shod pointed out. "At least he gave Jarl Elisif a choice."

"Swear allegiance to the man who killed her husband rather than be deposed and incarcerated—or executed—is not a choice."

"Falk, execution was never an option and you know it," said Selene.

"I do _not_ know it. He killed High King Torygg—"

"In a duel."

"He cheated. He should be made to answer for that."

"The rules of engagement said nothing of Shouts," Ulfric reminded him.

"Shouts wouldn't have been an issue with anyone else! Your defeat of High King Torygg was dishonorable."

Anger was slowly starting to seep into Ulfric's scent, and Selene could see the conversation going south very quickly. "What would you propose?" she asked Falk. "An apology? Restitution?"

"How could he offer restitution for the murder of the king?"

"Not murder!" Skald fairly screamed. He stood up and shook a long, bony finger at Falk.

"Skald, sit down!" Vignar ordered him.

"Again—what do you propose?" Selene repeated. "No one else has been nominated; Ulfric will be chosen High King. How peacefully the transition goes will depend partly on the terms you set out."

"I will offer a formal apology," Ulfric broke in, "and sit down with Elisif to discuss other arrangements. I stand by my claim as High King, but I am willing to do whatever possible to make amends."

"Thank you, Jarl Ulfric," Elisif replied sweetly, "but any concessions you make will not bring back my husband."

"Elisif should be grateful that Ulfric is still willing to work with her," Skald barked. "He could still oust you from the throne and plop you down in the dungeon with Balgruuf and Idgrod, you know."

"Thank you, Skald, but you're not helping," said Ulfric.

"No, no," Elisif protested, "he's right. Ulfric, I will be glad to sit down with you and attempt to make our uneasy peace more amicable."

Vignar waited a moment, but there was no further discussion. "We'll consider that matter closed, then! Anything else?"

By the way Falk sneered down the table at Ulfric, Selene could tell the matter wasn't as closed as Vignar thought, but he didn't press the matter further.

Thongvor Silver-Blood raised a hand. "I call for a vote."

"I second," said Thonar.

"Very well," Vignar nodded. "The nomination of Ulfric Stormcloak as High King of Skyrim is officially up for a vote. Elisif the Fair, Jarl of Haafingar, what say you?"

Elisif only hesitated for a moment before saying, "Aye."

"Dengeir of Stuhn, Jarl of Falkreath."

Dengeir stood up. "I vote Aye. Ulfric Stormcloak has been—"

"No need to proselytize, Dungeir. The time to make arguments has passed, and we don't need a speech. Now, sit down. Skald, Jarl of The Pale."

The vote was unanimous, of course, and Ulfric accepted the position with a grateful nod as the jarls and their lieutenants applauded—all but Falk. "Again, thank you all for your support. I assure you that my intent is to _lead_, not _rule. _I will look to all of you for counsel and will always be open to suggestions. You will retain the autonomy you have become accustomed to as long as you remain loyal to me as High King and to Skyrim as a whole, and I will exert my influence in your holds' affairs only when absolutely necessary. My first order of business is to propose a resolution moving the capital from Solitude to Windhelm. For the most part, this will save Jarl Elisif and myself from being uprooted from our homes."

"But would cause many others to be uprooted, as well as the transfer of archives, records, accounts, and a host of other items," Falk noted.

"I do not expect this to be a simple matter. Assuming the resolution passes, I will put you in touch with my steward, and you can make arrangements. We'll move staff if need be, but I won't force anyone to go permanently. I want this to go as smoothly as possible, and Jorleif will assist you in any way he can."

"They will either go or lose their jobs."

"It's my understanding that Haafingar will still need administrative staff when it is no longer the capital. Surely you will be able to find employment for anyone who does not want to relocate."

"Embassies are an issue," Elisif said. "I received a letter from the Emperor requesting to open a dialog and possibly erect embassies here and in the Imperial City. We have the Thalmor Embassy to think of as well."

"My second piece of business today will be to ban the Thalmor from Skyrim soil, so that embassy won't be an issue."

"The Thalmor won't go easily," said Thongvor.

"The hard way suits me just fine, my friend."

* * *

The Moot lasted late into the evening, and Selene arrived at Proudspire Manor about two hours after sunset. She found Brynjolf and Karliah sitting at the kitchen table, drinking wine.

"How'd it go?" Karliah asked her.

"Electing the new High King took about five minutes," she replied, taking a sip from Brynjolf's wineglass. "The rest of the day was spent discussing how he would begin his reign, and jarls love to hear themselves talk. Where are the others?"

Brynjolf smiled. "Waiting for us at the rendezvous point."

Selene sighed heavily and stretched, cracking her neck. "Ugh, do we have to go now?"

"This was your idea, you know."

"I know, I know. I've just spent the entire day sitting at a table listening to jarls argue, and I'm tired. But I guess a hike will do me good. You go to the rendezvous; I'll get Ulfric and meet you there in an hour." She changed into her armor and grabbed her bow and daggers, then trudged back to the Blue Palace and upstairs to Ulfric's suite. She knocked on the door, and Nilsine answered.

"Selene," she nodded stiffly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to borrow His Majesty. Something urgent has come up that needs his attention."

Ulfric came up behind his fiancée quickly. "What is it?"

"I can't talk about it here. Just trust me. You don't need to wear armor, but you will need your sword."

He nodded, went to the hearth where he had placed his sword in a weapon rack, and strapped it around his waist. He kissed Nilsine on the forehead and promised to return to her as quickly as possible, then followed Selene out of the room and through the palace.

"Did I hear you call me 'His Majesty'? I won't be High King until tomorrow, you know. And then I believe 'Your Grace' is the commonly used term, and then only in public. In private, you never have to use my title."

Selene gave him a mischievous grin. "Whatever you say, Your Excellency."

He glared at her. "You're going to make my transition to High King very difficult, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Your Holiness." They reached a trapdoor hidden under a rug at the end of a long hallway.

"This is where the Stormcloaks infiltrated during the battle," she reminded him.

"We're leaving the city?"

She nodded but said no more until they were safely out of the palace. "We're not going far. There's an abandoned shack a couple of miles from here. We're meeting Brynjolf and some others there."

"Selene, what in Oblivion is going on?" he demanded.

"It's a coronation present from the Guild."

"And it couldn't wait for tomorrow?"

"This is not something we just set on the gift table, my king."

When they arrived at the shack, Cynric and Vipir stood outside, guarding the door. "Everything's ready," Vipir informed them.

"Thanks, Vipir." Selene opened the door and led Ulfric inside.

The shack looked as if it had once been quite cozy. There was a bed, some tables and chairs, bookshelves, and a fire in the fireplace. On closer inspection, though, the bed was rickety, one of the legs was off the table, and the bookshelves were full of spider webs. Something else was in the room as well, the package she had sent the thieves to retrieve.

Kneeling on the floor, hands tied behind her back and Brynjolf and Karliah standing over her with daggers, was a figure dressed in Thalmor robes. Thrynn and Rune leaned against the wall nearby. When Brynjolf removed the hood, Ulfric smiled grimly. It was Elenwen.

"I got your letter," Selene informed the ambassador.

* * *

The Thalmor hadn't even realized who they had when they had captured Ulfric. One of Elenwen's lieutenants managed to get him to reveal his true identity, and after that, the ambassador did her own dirty work. She tormented him for weeks, denying him food and sleep, forcing him to watch the torture, rape, and murder of his comrades, and inflicting unimaginable pain on his body. She paralyzed him with her spells and then alternately cast fire, shock, and frost spells at his bare skin, carved designs in his chest and arms with enchanted daggers, broke his bones with a hammer, and had her thugs beat him until his face was little more than a mass of blood and swollen tissue. When he neared death, she would have someone come in and heal him, and then she would start all over again. All the while, she gave him news on how the war was going, questioned him about battles that were being fought, and prodded him for information that would help them take the Imperial City.

He held out as long as he could, but when Elenwen told him his father had been assassinated, he finally cracked. He didn't tell her much, but it was enough. Elenwen came back and regaled him with graphic stories about the sacking of the Imperial City. Ulfric learned later that not only was his father still alive, they had taken the city before Ulfric gave up the information, and Elenwen had squeezed it from him solely for the satisfaction of saying she had broken him. He had escaped shortly after that, and it wasn't until after he met Selene that he found out Elenwen had let him get away.

It had been more than thirty years, and Ulfric could still feel the searing heat of the flames, the sizzle of lightning, the point of Elenwen's knife, the crunch of bone as she bashed him. He could still feel the pinch of the shackles that held his wrists and ankles, the damp cold of the dungeon, and her foul breath on his cheek as she leaned in close to whisper lies into his ear. Some of the scars still ached when the weather was changing.

General Tullius had been right when he'd said the Thalmor wanted the civil war. Selene had recovered a dossier from the embassy that designated Ulfric as an asset, albeit an inactive one. He had never known such rage as he had experienced when he read that file. Had Elenwen been present, nothing would have been able to stop him from ripping the elf limb from limb.

And now here she was, on her knees before him, bound and gagged, and the terror in her eyes was worth waiting thirty years for.

"Well, well, look what we have here. It's amazing what a master thief can steal. Brynjolf, you and your organization have truly done me a service. Now, would one of you be so kind as to remove the gag?"

A muscular young Nord with red warpaint stepped toward the ambassador and took hold of the gag. "Screaming won't do you any good, so don't bother. We're too far away for anyone to hear you, and it'll only piss me off. We both know what happens when you piss me off, don't we?"

"High King Ulfric," Elenwen spat when the thief pulled the gag away. Ulfric noticed that her lip was split and a large bruise was forming on her jawline. "What a lovely way to begin your reign—having common thieves abduct high-ranking emissaries and sloshing out into the swamp to torment her."

"I'd hardly call them common thieves. You were taken by the best the Thieves Guild has to offer. Besides, I can't think of a better way to begin my reign."

"I'll be avenged."

"Do you think so? According to Selene, everyone at the embassy despises you. Why would they bother avenging your death?"

"I doubt they even know she's gone," Karliah mentioned. "We took her quietly, using a paralytic toxin, and no one detected us. When they do discover that she's missing, they will think she fled when you were chosen High King. It may be weeks or months before anyone decides she's worth looking for."

"Especially after the Thalmor are ejected from Skyrim," Selene threw in.

Elenwen drew a trembling breath.

"What, are you afraid?" Ulfric taunted her. "Worried about what these inferior beings are going to do to you? With good reason, I would imagine. I hear you have as much to fear from the Thieves Guild as you do from me."

She looked at him as though she didn't understand, and Brynjolf said, "Etienne."

There was still no recognition on her face, and Brynjolf snarled and kicked her over, his face red with anger. "He was the thief you tortured for information about where to find Esbern, you Thalmor bitch! He's as meek as a child and will never be the same, and you don't even remember him? Jarl, whatever you're going to do to her, just let me have her for five minutes."

"Brynjolf, set her back up, love," Selene said softly.

His beloved Selene. Even after everything that had happened, her touch or her sweet voice could still send tingles up Ulfric's spine. How in the Divines' names was he going to pledge his devotion to Nilsine when the last thing he thought of before going to sleep every night was Selene's face? It wasn't fair to Nilsine, but she knew what she was getting into. It was an arranged marriage, and she didn't need for him to love her. She just wanted to be queen, and so she would be. They liked each other well enough. Perhaps someday they would grow to love one another. In the meantime, they would comfort each other—Nilsine, whose twin sister was brutally murdered, and Ulfric, who lost his love to a thief.

A thief who now wanted to take something else away from him.

"This one is mine, thief." He met eyes with Elenwen. "Funny. Last time we met, it was _I_ who was bound and gagged. You claim I'm a Thalmor asset, but you did nothing to prevent my execution that day."

"I suppose you could say my hands were tied then as well. Your death would indeed have been inconvenient, but preventing it would have meant revealing my hand to General Tullius, and I could not afford to do so. How fortunate for a dragon to attack at the moment your little friend here was on the block."

"My 'little friend' followed him all the way to Sovngarde and destroyed him, saving your life and immortal soul as well as everyone else's."

"Are we sure she even has a soul?" the thief with the warpaint muttered.

"Only to bring me before you now. Will you save me this time, Dragonborn?"

"I wouldn't count on it," Selene replied coldly.

"So what will it be, Ulfric? Will you beat me? Carve me with your dagger? You don't know any magic, so you'll have to torture me in a more mundane fashion. Or will you just let the thieves have me? This one seems to know what he's doing."

This was his chance. Elenwen, the Altmer emissary who had caused more suffering in his life than anyone else, who had forced him to betray his empire, and who still plagued him with the occasional nightmare, knelt helpless before him. The Thieves Guild had given him the opportunity to return all the pain and anguish she had inflicted on him. But now that she was here, Ulfric realized all he wanted was for it to be over. He drew his sword.

"No, Elenwen. I don't want to torture you. I just want you to die." With that, he swung his sword. She stayed upright for just a moment before her body collapsed and her head toppled to the floor.

Ulfric closed his eyes. His heart thrummed in his chest, and emotion surged through him. Tears actually threatened to well in his eyes. But he wouldn't cry, not in front of the Thieves Guild.

An Imperial with an open, friendly face took Ulfric's sword and wiped the blade clean before handing it back to him. "We'll take care of the body," he promised. "Nobody will find her. Ever."

Ulfric nodded a thank you and sheathed his sword, and Selene placed a hand on his arm. "You all right?" she asked him.

He looked down at her, then over at Elenwen's body, which was soaking in an ever-growing pool of blood. "I suppose I've finally committed the murder they've been accusing me of."

"This wasn't murder, love. It was justice."

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	16. The Dragonborn's Tale 16: A Second

The Dragonborn's Tale

PART II: THE GRAY ISLAND

16 - A Second Dragonborn

The Guild made a killing at Ulfric's coronation, and they went back to Riften happy with their take. Selene and Brynjolf accompanied the High King's party back to Windhelm, where they spent the night at Hjerim before heading north. They stopped in Winterhold to give the Elder Scroll to a very grateful Urag, then went farther on to Septimus Signus's outpost to return the lexicon.

"Give it quickly!" he exclaimed, holding out his hands like a child begging for a sweet. "Amazing! I see it now, how the sealing structure interlocks. Clever, clever, Dwemer. Dwarven blood could loose the hooks, but none remain alive."

He paced back and forth, mumbling to himself. After a moment he stopped, looked up at Selene and came toward her. He smiled and placed a hand on her stomach. "Ah, treasures inside the lexicon, but treasures inside the bearer as well."

Selene backed out of his reach. "What are you talking about?"

"A babe. A second Dragonborn. Ha-ha, even Septimus knows that."

Alarm washed through Brynjolf's scent. Selene looked up at him, and he shook his head. "No, he can't—he's mad, Selene."

She looked back at the mage. "Why would you say there's a baby?"

Ignoring her question, he started pacing again. "There may be a way, something the Dwemer did not anticipate. The mer still living may be the key. Altmer, Bosmer, Orsimer, Dunmer, Falmer." He went to his dresser and rooted around, throwing objects over his shoulder and mumbling. Finally he pulled out a large brass device comprised of five syringes and handed it to Brynjolf. "Bear you hence this extractor and come back when it is complete."

"Complete how?" Brynjolf asked him.

"It will drink the fresh blood of elves. One sample of each will combine to open the box."

"And you just had this lying around?"

Still reeling from Septimus's comment about a baby, Selene sputtered, "Why...why are you so eager to open this box?"

Brynjolf scoffed. "You mean _you_ aren't curious to know what's inside? I'm dying to know what's in there."

"The box contains the heart," Septimus told them, "the essence of a god. The knowledge of the Elder Scrolls is but a passing awareness to the all-encompassing mind of my lord."

"Your lord?"

"Hermeus Mora, daedric prince of the unknown. Oh, the secrets he will share with me! He asks a price to work his will, be sure. A few murders, some dissent spread, a plague or two. But for the secrets, I can endure. But he teases, he does. He brought me here to the box, and he won't reveal how to open it. Ha! I've figured it out, though! With the blood of the mer, the secrets will be mine—yours as well."

"Do you want to do this?" Brynjolf asked Selene, holding the extractor up.

She had to admit she was curious, but she was also wary. "Let's keep it, and we'll see what happens. We come across a lot of elves when we fight bandits and such."

Brynjolf stuffed the apparatus in his pack, and they bid farewell to Septimus Signus and made their way up the ramp to the door. They found the way blocked by a swirling, blue-black torrent.

"Come closer," a thick, deep voice said slowly from inside the eddy. "Bask in my presence."

There was no basking. The presence made Selene shudder with revulsion.

"I am Hermeus Mora, guardian of the unseen and knower of the unknown. I have been watching you, Dragonborn. Septimus Signus has served me well; he has discerned how to open that infernal lockbox."

"Are you saying you don't know how to open it? I thought you knew everything."

"There are some secrets even Hermeus Mora has yet to learn. Bring him blood and open the box; then you shall take his place as my emissary."

Brynjolf gave a soft chuckle, and Selene breathed a heavy sigh. "My lord, I won't be your emissary. I'm beholden to enough daedric princes as it is."

A cold chill drifted through her and made her bones ache. "Be warned, mortal. Many have thought as you do, and I have broken them all. Your free will is an illusion. You cannot evade me forever, and you _will_ serve me." With that, the torrent disappeared, opening the way out the door.

"Why in Oblivion does every daedric prince think they can have a piece of me?" she grumbled as they climbed into the rowboat that would ferry them back to Winterhold.

"Daedric princes think they can have a piece of _everybody_. You just garner more attention than most."

They rowed for a while, engrossed in an uncomfortable silence, neither wanting to venture discussion of Septimus Signus's remark about a baby. Brynjolf was right; the old mage was crazy. But so often, the mad had a perception that others didn't. Could he be right?

"Selene," Brynjolf said finally, "when's the last time you bled?"

She turned and looked back at him. "It's been long enough."

"Gods!"

"We'll stop and see Jora on the way back to Riften."

They stopped in Windhelm, and the priestess of Talos confirmed that Selene was indeed pregnant. Brynjolf's scent went wild at the news, terror flooding in, turning to joy, and then going back to fear. Selene felt much the same. She and her husband weren't exactly parent material.

"All right," said Brynjolf, "what must we do to take care of Selene?"

"Your usual routine should be fine, for the most part," Jora told them. "Don't ride a horse, and avoid alcohol and anything with nightshade or deathbell. They're dangerous to the child. Only milk, juice, and water."

"You do realize my usual routine involves fighting dragons," Selene reminded her.

"Whether you continue to fight is up to you. The baby shouldn't be in any more danger than you would be."

That was small comfort to Selene.

They spent the night in Windhelm, and Selene went to bed early, falling into a deep slumber as soon as her head hit the pillow. As usual, she dreamed of the hunt, but as her wolf spirit leapt to attack a deer, she whispered, "Don't forget me." She woke with a start to find Brynjolf watching her, his hand resting on her belly.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Aye. Just my usual werewolf dreams. You?"

"Part of me is petrified. We're thieves and fighters. We've no business bringing a child into this world. But when I watch you sleep and think about what—_who_—is growing inside you, and I get this warm feeling, and I know everything is going to be all right."

"So you're happy about this?"

He smiled. "Aye."

"So am I."

"Do you think the baby will be Dragonborn like Septimus said?"

Selene shrugged. "Hard to say, but it was hereditary in the past. And he was right about my being pregnant."

"I thought living with _one_ Dragonborn was an adventure; imagine what it'll be with two. One temper tantrum from the little one, and the Unrelenting Force Shout takes out half the nursery."

"Or worse, the Fire Breath Shout destroys the house. Don't worry, love. I don't intend to teach her any Words of Power until she's at least six or seven."

"Well, I don't know the first thing about taking care of a baby, especially a Dragonborn baby, so you'll have to give me lots of advice."

"What makes you think _I_ know how to take care of a baby?"

Brynjolf laughed out loud, his head dropping to the pillow. "Sweet Nocturnal, we're going to be the worst parents ever!"

"No, we won't. We'll get through this, love."

He reached over and caressed her cheek. "I believe you," he said softly.

* * *

Most of the Guild members were happy for Selene and Brynjolf. Only Vex scoffed and said, "You know this is a terrible idea, right?"

"It's not like it was planned," Selene retorted. "We'll just have to make the best of it."

"You'd be better off dropping it on the doorstep of Honorhall Orphanage when it's born."

Selene's fist shot out and clocked Vex in the jaw. Vex stumbled backward and started to come out swinging, but Delvin, who had been watching from nearby, grabbed hold of her.

"Not a good idea, Vexie," he said. "Besides, you asked for that one."

"Don't ever suggest sending _anybody_ to Honorhall again," Selene warned her, "or I will end you. Got that?"

Vex jerked away from Delvin walked off, muttering several unkind names for Selene under her breath.

"She don't understand, pet," Delvin cooed. "She don't know what it was like there."

"Perhaps I'll send her over there to help out, give her a new perspective."

Delvin chuckled. "Oi, that'll surely endear you to her."

* * *

Life went back to normal for Selene and Brynjolf, or as normal as it ever got. They spent their time running the Guild and preparing to convert one of the basement rooms into a nursery. Feeling a bit superstitious, Selene didn't want to start actual construction until the baby started to show, but ideas were flowing nonetheless. She saw Dinya Balu at the Temple of Mara regularly to make sure she and the child stayed healthy, and she spent quite a bit of time leaning over the rail on the balcony, throwing up into Lake Honrich. But it was a magical time, and Selene had never been so happy. Brynjolf was happy, too, and he loved nothing better than to lie with his face next to her belly and talk or sing songs to the baby.

"You know that's silly," Selene told him. "She's not even aware yet."

"What makes you so sure it's a girl? And besides, when she becomes aware, I want her to know the sound of my voice."

"I'm sure she'll be just as charmed by it as all the other ladies."

Spring gave way to summer, and life went on. Around the middle of Midyear, they were making their way home from the Cistern when they were stopped on the walkway by three people wearing unusual leather armor and masks of bone. They looked for all the world like they had squids attached to their faces.

"You there," the one in the center said with an accent that hinted that he was from Morrowind. "You're the one they call Dragonborn."

"Depends. Who's asking?"

"Do not try to lie to us, Deceiver," he snarled. "We know you are the false Dragonborn!"

"How can you say she's false?" Brynjolf dared him. "She absorbs the souls; she learns the Shouts. She defeated Alduin."

"Lies. Lord Miraak, the true Dragonborn, comes soon, and we shall offer him this Pretender's heart. When he appears, none shall stand to oppose him!"

With that, they attacked. Selene quickly threw an Unrelenting Force Shout at them, knocking them backward long enough for her and Brynjolf to draw their swords. The city guards came running as well, and with their help, they made short work of the assailants. Selene removed the mask of the one who had spoken and confirmed that he was indeed a Dunmer. She didn't have the extractor with her, so she would have to worry about the blood later, but she did search him. In addition to some gold, she found a letter.

Board the vessel _Northern Maiden_ docked at Raven Rock. Take it to Windhelm, then begin your search. Kill the False Dragonborn known as Selene Stormblade before she reaches Solstheim. Return with word of your success, and Miraak will be most pleased.

"Hmm. It's been a while since someone wanted to kill me," she said mildly.

"Selene, this isn't funny," Brynjolf argued.

"Go home and rest, Stormblade," one of the guards recommended. "We'll take care of this...riff raff."

"Thank you." Selene held onto the mask of one of the attackers as she and Brynjolf continued on toward Honeyside. When they got home, she laid it on the kitchen table. "You think there'll be more?"

"When whoever wrote that letter finds out the mission has failed, I'm sure there will be."

She picked the mask up and stared at it grimly. It was always something. Then again, they'd had two solid months of uneventful bliss. Truth be known, she was starting to get a little bored. "Fancy a trip to Solstheim?" she asked impulsively.

"What about the baby?"

"Well, she'll have to go too. I can't very well leave her here."

Brynjolf actually chuckled. "No, I mean do you think it's safe?"

"Probably not, but it's not safe here either, apparently. We should take care of this, especially before my belly starts growing and I get too big for my armor."

"I agree," he said reluctantly. "I'll head back to the Guild and let Delvin and Vex know we're leaving again."

"I'll pack while you're gone, and we can leave in the morning."

He leaned in and kissed her, then left the house. Selene got up to start packing.

* * *

Selene and Brynjolf arrived in Windhelm at suppertime, so they went to Hjerim for dinner and a night's rest, then made their way to the docks early the next morning. The _Northern Maiden_ was loaded with cargo, but the sailors didn't really seem to be preparing to leave port. She asked one of them who the captain was, and he pointed to a man sitting on a crate near the bow.

"Are you the captain?" she asked the man.

"Uh, sure," he said suspiciously. "Aye, that's me, Gjalund Salt-Sage. Who sent you?"

"Who sent us? Nobody. We were hoping to book passage to Solstheim."

"That's too bad, because I'm not going back there anymore."

"Why not?"

"It's hard to explain. I—my crew and I—we don't even know how we got here."

"Well, you sailed here, didn't you?" Brynjolf asked.

He shrugged. "I remember some people with masks coming aboard. The next thing I knew, I was here, and they were gone. That's not right, just losing whole days like that. And there was talk in Raven Rock about people losing time as well, memory lapses and all that. Now that it happened to me, I'm just...I'm done. I'm not going back there."

"Yes, you are," Selene prodded. "You're taking us to Solstheim.

"Haven't you been listening? I'm not going back there!"

"The people with masks, the ones who boarded your ship? They tried to kill me."

"Hey, now, that wasn't my fault. I didn't know they were going to attack you. I didn't even...it's not my fault."

One of the crewmen sidled up to Gjalund and whispered in his ear, and he looked up at Selene wide-eyed. "Are you...Dragonborn?"

"I am. Those people were members of some cult, and they were sent here to assassinate me. Look, I need to get to Solstheim. Take me, and I'll pay you double your usual rate."

Gjalund's face lit up. "Well, a man's got to make a living, after all. Fine. We'll cast off immediately."

Selene walked out onto the deck of the ship, and the gentle rocking made her stomach churn. She could only imagine what it would be like when they got out to sea. Groaning, she found a nice, comfy place near the rail with the notion that she would spent much of the trip leaning over it.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	17. The Dragonborn's Tale 17: Welcome

The Dragonborn's Tale 17

Welcome to Raven Rock

Selene spent the entire half-day trip to Raven Rock vomiting into the sea. When land appeared on the horizon, she thanked Kynareth for small favors, but just because they were near land didn't mean they were stopping. They continued on for another hour past miles of ash-covered shoreline. To the south, the Red Mountain puffed away, continually spewing smoke and ash into the gray sky. Occasionally they saw creatures like none Selene had ever seen floating above the ground or water. They were the size of a house, covered with a something like a tortoise shell that came to a long point at the back, no visible heads, and six long, blue tentacles that hung toward the ground. They bobbed and drifted, thrumming softly like a heartbeat while their underside pulsed with light.

"What on Nirn are those?" Brynjolf asked Gjalund.

"Netch," the captain replied. "Gentle creatures, but they can be deadly if they're attacked. They keep them as pets on the mainland. They also harvest their jelly for potions."

"They're beautiful," Selene said.

Gjalund laughed. "Ha! Ugliest things I've ever seen, next to Rieklings."

"What are Rieklings?"

"Savages. Half the size of a Nord and blue as the ocean. Nasty little scavengers that will gang up on you, fill you full of holes with their spears, and then steal all your household goods. If you stay on Solstheim long, I'm sure you'll come across them."

The _Northern Maiden_ finally swung in to a small bay that was surrounded by a high, rock wall. "Well, here we are," said the captain. "This is Raven Rock, pretty much the only real city on the island. Good luck. Maybe you can figure out why people are having memory lapses."

As soon as the ship docked, Selene disembarked and lay facedown on the pier, relishing the stability of the cool wood beneath her body.

"What is this?" a voice demanded. "What is wrong with her?"

"My wife has been seasick," Brynjolf said. "Please, just give her a moment."

Selene finally picked herself up and dusted the ash from the dock off her armor as best she could. A well-dressed Dunmer stood next to Brynjolf, arms folded, eyeing her critically.

"My apologies. I'm pregnant, and traveling by ship was probably a bad idea."

"Best wishes for your coming child, outlanders. Now, state your intentions."

Well. Nothing like receiving a warm welcome when one comes to a new place. But Selene didn't have the energy to be defiant at the moment, so she simply said, "We're looking for someone named Miraak. Do you know where we can find him?"

The elf stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Miraak...I'm not sure that I do. Hmm." He stared off into space for a moment before recovering and raising an eyebrow at Brynjolf. "You'll do well to remember that Raven Rock is the sovereign territory of House Redoran. This is Morrowind, not Skyrim. You'll be expected to abide by our laws."

"Why are you so suspicious of outsiders?" Brynjolf asked him.

"I have to be," he responded earnestly. "I am Adril Arano, Second Councilor and right hand of Councilor Morvayn. The security of Raven Rock is my primary concern."

"Do you have problems with security?"

"We seem to have more than our fair share, and I refuse to let Councilor Morvayn down."

"He's the leader of Raven Rock?"

"So he's like a jarl," Selene guessed.

"Indeed," Adril nodded.

"About Miraak. Do you know who he is?"

He furrowed his brow. "I'm...unsure. I swear I know the name, but I cannot place it. Wait...I'm not...the name has something to do with the Earth Stone, I think, but I'm not sure what."

"The Earth Stone?"

"Yes, it's a shrine on the north end of town. Many go there to receive its blessings. Do you have any other questions about Raven Rock?"

"Can you tell us where to find an inn?" Brynjolf asked.

"The Retching Netch is in the town square. You can get a room there."

Selene chuckled. "Retching Netch? Well, _I'll_ feel right at home."

"Remember, we're watching you."

As they headed toward the gate into town, Brynjolf grunted. "Hello, neighbors," he quipped, mimicking Adril's accent. "Welcome to Solstheim. Do enjoy your stay."

"Let's just hope the rest of the town is friendlier."

"But I didn't get that he was unfriendly. Something about him...he was afraid, especially when we mentioned Miraak."

"You're right. I can't smell much except for ash and puke at this point, but I could definitely smell his fear."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Let's find this inn and get settled, maybe get you something to eat."

Selene's stomach, which had been turning somersaults all day, began to growl at Brynjolf's comment. "Aye. Food sounds good."

Raven Rock was the most colorless city Selene had ever seen. Everything was gray, except for a large plant that looked sort of like a purple nirnroot. There weren't a lot of straight lines or right angles in the city. Most of the buildings were low, domed ovals constructed as though the stones were draped over the foundations. The street was made of stone, but most of it was covered with ash, which had been trampled underfoot and battered by the weather for so long that it had the consistency of sand. A well stood in the center of the town square and was surrounded by a forge, an alchemist, and a couple of other nondescript vendors, all set up outside with tables and crates instead of an actual shop. The inn was to the right, and they walked toward the door.

"Brynjolf!" a voice rang out behind them. They turned around to see the blacksmith waving his arms.

Brynjolf's face lit up. "Glover!" He hurried across the square and grabbed the smith up in a warm embrace. "I'm glad to see you, my friend! Selene, this is Glover Mallory, Delvin's baby brother. He used to work the forge in the Flagon. Glover, this is my wife, Selene."

"Wife!" Glover repeated as he reached out to shake Selene's hand. "How did you manage to snag the perpetual bachelor?"

"Turns out it wasn't as perpetual as he thought. Good to meet you, Glover." When she shook his hand, she got a good look at him. He looked like Delvin, but he was younger and better looking, with sandy hair and beard cut short and the solid musculature of a smith. There was a gleam in his eye, though, that belied the notion that he hadn't always been the upstanding merchant he was now.

"How did you end up here?" Brynjolf asked him. "Last I heard, you were working with some smith in Helgen. We had given you up for dead after it was destroyed."

"Nah, I was long gone by then. Aye, the smith was a Dunmer named Vanryth. I learned a lot from him, including how to craft and repair bonemold armor. Not a lot of use for that in Skyrim, so after Vanryth moved on to greener pastures, I decided to pack up, move out here, and put those lessons to the test. So how's my brother? Still spending his nights at the Ragged Flagon trying to win Vex's heart?"

"He's well, and yes, he is."

"What about the others? Mercer?"

"Mercer's dead, and that's a long story. Let's have a drink later so we can catch up, and I'll tell you all about it. Selene here is Guildmaster now."

"Really?" Glover said, impressed. "Is that where the new armor came from? You made some significant changes, I see."

Brynjolf shook his head. "No, Guild armor hasn't changed. This is special."

Glover reached out and touched Brynjolf's sleeve, rubbing the enchanted leather between his fingers. "What is that treated with? Crushed soul gems?"

"Void salts," Selene said.

"No kidding. That's amazing stuff." He stepped back and looked up at Selene. "Well, I gotta tell you, Guildmaster, there's not much in Raven Rock to steal. The mine closed down long ago, and the whole damn place is dryer than a bone. No work, no coin, no loot. Doesn't affect me much because most of my work comes from the Raven Rock guard, but pickings are slim for the others. Sometimes I don't know how they even survive."

"We're not actually here looking for work."

"Well, if you change your mind, the Raven Rock branch of the Guild has a problem."

"There's a whole branch here?"

Glover looked abashed. "Oh, all right, it's really _my_ problem."

"What happened?"

"A fellow Breton who went by the name Esmond Tyne showed up on my doorstep about a fortnight ago. He mentioned the Shadowmark on my door, and I thought he was one of us."

"He stole something from you?"

"Right out from under my nose. Can you believe it? There was certainly no honor with _that_ thief."

"What did he steal?"

"My formula for improved bonemold. Took me years to perfect. Serves me right for writing it down. Should have kept it in my head."

"Any idea where he might have gone?" Brynjolf asked.

"He mentioned some nonsense about trying to fence goods to the Rieklings at Castle Karstaag. Those little fellas love trinkets, but they normally just ambush you and take them. I told Esmond he was crazy to think about actually _selling_ anything to them, but he wouldn't listen. I bet he's either dead or hiding out up there."

"I'm not sure where we're going," said Selene, "but if we get up there, we'll get your formula back for you."

"I'd be much obliged. Also, if you see someone named Crescius Caerellius, he's been stealing from me too."

Selene raised an eyebrow. "For a former thief, you seem to be quite an easy target."

"Now, don't look at me like that. I'm all alone out here with nobody to watch my back. And I'm rusty, to boot."

She chuckled. This guy was just as lovable as his big brother. "Well, what did _he_ steal?"

"It's a pickaxe—"

"You're making all this fuss over a pickaxe?"

"It's not just any pickaxe. I'm talking about an Ancient Nordic Pickaxe. It's very rare, and it's the only tool tough enough to crack stalhrim."

"What's stalhrim?" asked Brynjolf. "Is it a type of ore?"

"Calling stalhrim an ore is like calling my forge a campfire. Some folks say it's enchanted ice, but I think there's more to it than that. _It's_ rare, too. I can't say I've come across more than a chunk or two in my whole lifetime. So. What brings you two to Solstheim if you're not looking for work?"

"We're looking for someone named Miraak."

Glover furrowed his brow and scratched his chin. "Hmm. I don't know anybody—wait. No...maybe. I don't know how I know that name."

"Is that a yes or a no?" Selene asked.

"I...I'm not sure. I, uh, I don't want to talk about this."

"No problem," Brynjolf assured him. "We're getting a room at the Retching Netch. Come by after you close up the forge, and I'll buy you a drink."

"Sure thing. Nice meeting you, Selene."

"You, too, Glover."

As they walked away, Selene said, "He's adorable."

"He was quite popular with the ladies. Vex said it was because he always seemed just a bit helpless. It was endearing, she said."

"That's exactly it. I'm sure he's _not_ helpless, but he made me just want to hug him and tell him it would be okay."

"I think he does it on purpose."

"Well, if he does, it works."

"Should I be jealous?"

Selene glared at him. "You have to be kidding."

"I am," he assured her with a chuckle. "Glover was never much of a thief. He was good at it, and an even better con artist, but I don't think he liked it."

"Did his reaction to Miraak's name remind you of anybody?"

Brynjolf nodded. "The Second Councilor did the same thing. Either they're covering for Miraak or he's got them bloody well terrified."

"But they weren't lying. I could have smelled a lie. I think they're really confused about whether they know him."

"Then I want to find out why." He opened the door for Selene, and they went into the inn.

The bulk of the Retching Netch was underground. The surface level was U-shaped and only had a few tables and chairs, some vats, and a cooking pot. A wide staircase led down into the inn proper, where a handful of people sat around, drinking and eating dinner. The setup was foreign to Selene, almost like a rabbit warren, with several hallways radiating from a central room. All the doorways were arched, and all the stone, like that on the outside of the building, seemed was molded rather than stacked. It gave her a safe, cozy feeling, almost as though they were covered with a big, gray blanket.

She and Brynjolf walked up to the bar where the innkeeper was speaking with a woman, who called him Geldis. When she walked away, he smiled at them.

"Welcome to the Retching Netch Cornerclub, home to the finest sujamma that will ever grace your lips. If you'd like to try it, I'll give you a free sample."

"Sure," said Brynjolf.

"None for me," Selene told him. "I'm pregnant."

Geldis smiled. "Ah, best wishes! It's tea for you, then, my lady." He brought Brynjolf a sample of the sujamma, and he ordered a whole bottle. Geldis brought their drinks and stood by, wiping the counter. "What brings you to Raven Rock?"

"We're looking for someone called Miraak."

Geldis made a face. "Sounds familiar, but...I know the name, but I can't place—perhaps something to do with the Earth Stone."

They had dinner, then asked if they could rent a room.

"Of course," Geldis said. "Ten Septims, and it's yours for a day."

"We'll pay you for a week." Selene handed him a bag of coin, and he showed them to their room.

The room was large, but the bed was only big enough for one of them. "I'm afraid that's all we have," he apologized.

"No problem," said Brynjolf. "We'll make do." When the innkeeper left, Brynjolf went to sit at a table in the corner with his sujamma. "This stuff is potent! You, my love, get some rest."

"All right." She slipped out of her armor and into a nightdress, then lay down on the bed. As usual lately, she drifted off to sleep rather quickly. Tonight, though, she didn't dream of the hunt.

_There is stone, and it must be shaped. She chips the stone, sweeping away bits with her hand. She must remember. She must reclaim. A voice speaks to her, slow, deliberate, gentle. Soothing._

"_Here in my shrine  
That you have forgotten.  
Here do you toil  
That you might remember.  
Here you reclaim  
Far from yourself.  
Your eyes once were blinded.  
Your hands once were idle.  
Now through me do you see.  
Now through you do I speak.  
And when the world shall listen,  
And when the world shall see,  
And when the world remembers,  
That world will cease to be._

A hand struck Selene's face sharply, and she awoke with a start. "What the—" she began, but she realized she wasn't in the bed at the inn. She was on the beach under a starlit sky, still in her nightdress and standing knee-deep in a pool of water with a hammer and chisel in her hands. She had been chipping at an arch being constructed around a large, glowing monolith. Brynjolf had his hands on her shoulders and was staring into her eyes with worry in his. When she focused on him, he relaxed and sighed with great relief, taking her into his arms.

"Brynjolf, what happened?"

"You drifted off to sleep, and a while later, you got up and walked out of the room. I asked where you were going, but you didn't answer. Nothing I tried could even get you to look at me. You were in some kind of trance. I finally tried slapping you, and that seemed to work. I'm so sorry about that."

"But how did I get out here?"

"You walked. All I could do was follow and do my best to keep you from getting hurt. Gods, Selene. Then you picked up a hammer and chisel and started chipping away at that rock, and you were chanting—" He pointed to people around him who were still working and chanting—Glover Mallory among them—and looked back at her. "You were chanting like them. Something about, 'Here at his shrine that they have forgotten.' You said when the world remembered, it would cease to be."

"Love, I don't remember any of that. But the thought of Miraak makes me very uncomfortable now, even more so than before, as though I have a terrible secret. I guess this is why people have vague memories of him and don't want to talk about it."

A Dunmer in brightly colored mage robes walked up to them. "Well, she seems fine now," he said in a high-pitched, pompous voice.

"Selene, this is Neloth. He's been watching."

"How long has this been going on?" she asked him.

"Oh, for quite some time. They come out at night in droves."

"What are they building?"

"I'm sure I don't know. They really don't have much to say about it. But I'm very interested to find out what happens when they finish."

"Do you know anything about Miraak?"

Just like all the others, he furrowed his brow and stroked his chin. "Miraak, Miraak...it sounds familiar, yet I can't quite place—oh, wait, I recall! But that makes very little sense. Miraak has been dead for thousands of years. Perhaps it has some relation to what's going on here. If not, there are ruins of an ancient temple toward the center of the island. If you want answers, you might check there."

The Second Councilor walked by with an armload of rock, droning, "Here in his shrine."

"Neloth, why haven't you tried to stop this?" Brynjolf demanded.

"Stop it? Whatever for? Doing so would interfere with whatever is going on, and I want to see how it turns out!"

Selene tugged on Brynjolf's arm. "Let's get out of here. I'm not even wearing any shoes."

As they started toward town, a familiar warm breeze blew across her shoulders, and a tiny whirlwind blew up before her. It hovered for a moment and then started to move. "I'm following that," she resolved.

"But what about your bare feet?" She didn't respond, and Brynjolf said, "Selene, don't do this to me again!"

"I'm not in a trance, love. I just—we have to go up here." She chased the gentle twister around some rocks and up a narrow hill until she found a shrine of Kynareth. Selene smiled joyfully and sat down next to the shrine. "Do you have any coin on you?"

Brynjolf placed a few coins on the altar and sat down next to her. She took his hand. "We're safe here," she whispered as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

They slept on the ground next to the shrine, and when the sun came up they made their way down the hill to the beach, where she saw some netch floating above the water. Selene went to the shore and watched them bobbing, their underbellies pulsing with blue light, and thrumming softly in communication with each other. There were three of them, possibly a mother, father, and baby. She laid a hand on her abdomen and smiled.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	18. The Dragonborn's Tale 18: Into Darkness

_A/N: UPDATED to make Selene's fight with the Lurker a bit more realistic. Just a reminder - don't forget to review! As a wise woman has recently said, reviews = love._

The Dragonborn's Tale 18

Into Darkness

Selene and Brynjolf spent the morning in Raven Rock, getting to know the vendors and some of the other townspeople, most of them Dunmer. Although getting to Miraak's temple was urgent, they weren't ready to rush right in, either. They wanted to ask some more questions and basically get a feel for the island before venturing off into uncharted territory. As expected, everyone they spoke to had the same reaction as Glover and Adril when asked about Miraak, although some did mention the temple at the center of the island.

While they were wandering through the town square, they stopped at the stand of an elf working at a tanning rack and said hello.

"Did you come to buy anything or just laugh at our misfortunes?" he snapped.

"Sales are that bad?" Brynjolf guessed.

"Hmph! Bad? What if I told you you're the first people that have even considered looking at my wares today? I've half a mind to contact my friends at the East Empire Company and see if they need an extra hand in Windhelm."

"You have friends at the EEC?" Selene asked.

"Oh, absolutely!" he bragged. "In fact, I've corresponded with Vittoria Vici herself more than once. You know, the lady who runs the warehouse in Solitude. It's the biggest warehouse they have in Skyrim."

"Aye," said Brynjolf, "she's our next-door neighbor."

"Oh," the merchant muttered, the wind taken out of his sails.

"I'm Selene, and this is my husband Brynjolf."

"Fethis Alor, at your service."

"What do you sell?"

"The question should be what _don't_ I sell? If it's not a weapon, potion or armor, then it's likely that I have it. Gjalund over at the docks brings me all sorts of things from Skyrim, and Glover gets me a few curiosities once in a while. He usually has the most amazing deals I can't pass up. I have an eye for trinkets."

"Well, if we find anything unusual while we're here, we'll bring it to you."

"Fine, just fine! One thing I'm always looking for is East Empire pendants. They're amulets made by the East Empire Company for their workers; gave them as incentives. They're no longer being made, so they've become collectors' items. You might find one or two of them around the island."

"We'll keep an eye out."

When they left Fethis's kiosk, they discovered the Raven Rock Mine, and Brynjolf mentioned that they might be able to locate Crescius Carellius inside. They went inside and found a man and a woman in the main office. She was Dunmer, petite and attractive, and he was an elderly Imperial. They stood face to face with their hands on their hips and angry expressions on their faces.

"Damn it, woman! I said leave me be!"

"Crescius, you're too old to be traipsing around down in the mine! I'm not spending the rest of my days as a widow."

"Of course you are! Do you think I'm going to live as long as you?"

"I am not having that conversation again."

Crescius noticed Selene and Brynjolf and looked up. "Who in blazes are you? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Glover Mallory sent us," Brynjolf told him. "He wants his Ancient Nordic Pickaxe back."

"Bah! The damn fool doesn't even deserve to have it! I'll bet he stole it from the Skaal in the first place!"

"That's his concern, not yours."

He groaned. "Oh, very well." He reached behind his desk and retrieved the pickaxe. "Here. Tell him I hope he drops it on his foot."

"I couldn't help overhearing you talking about exploring the mine," said Selene. "Is there something we could help with?"

"I don't know. Been difficult trusting people lately. They all think I'm crazy. But mark my words: if I'm right—and I know I'm right—I have a secret that will put the Raven Rock Mine back on the map."

"_Back_ on the map?" the Dunmer woman countered. "It hasn't been on the map in two hundred years!"

"Just ignore her. She thinks I'm crazy, too."

"What kind of secret?" Brynjolf asked.

"One that the East Empire Company swept under the rug. My great grandfather died trying to uncover it. The company called it a 'terrible accident,' claiming it was a rockfall, but I know better. That mine is solid; there was no rockfall. See, my wife—Aphia, there—she and I were cleaning when we came across some of my great grandfather's things locked in an old chest. I found an unsent letter he had written to the company describing a discovery that was made in the mine. They wanted Gratian—that's my great grandfather—to have a closer look. Then he was killed, and they locked that section of the mine, I think to cover up what Gratian really found. But I have the key. Well, I _assume_ it's the key to the locked section. I haven't managed to get all the way down there."

"Why are you even entertaining this notion?" Aphia demanded.

"I'm guessing you don't agree with his story," noted Selene.

"Poor Crescius is aging, and I believe it's addled his mind."

"I'm standing right here, woman!"

Aphia ignored him. "I'm sure his great grandfather is down there somewhere, but there was no conspiracy. It was a simple cave-in, like they said. My greatest fear is that my stubborn mule of a husband will end up suffering the same fate."

Selene shrugged. "I have to admit it sounds suspicious to me."

"Finally!" Crescius exclaimed. "Someone who believes me! Look, my harpy of a wife nags that I'm too old to go down there chasing my theory, but perhaps she's correct. I'm afraid time is my enemy. It's caught up with me before I could find the answers I'm looking for."

Selene looked at Brynjolf, who shrugged and said, "We can take a look. Any idea where to start?"

"Gratian kept a journal of notes about his discoveries. If you can find his remains, I'm hoping it will help." He went to his desk and pulled a letter and a key out of the drawer, then handed them to Selene. "Be careful down in the mine. The way can be treacherous."

They started to head back out to town to get supplies from their room and give Glover his pickaxe back before venturing down into the depths of the mine, and Aphia followed them to the door.

"Thank you," she told Selene softly. "I know I won't have him much longer, and I don't want to risk losing him before his time."

"How did you two meet?"

"I was a priestess at the temple. He was going through a deep depression, and Councilor Morvayn sent me to care for him. Eventually we fell in love and married."

"You're a priestess?"

"Yes. I had a falling out with the other priests at the temple, but I still practice Restoration magic. If you need healing, come to me, and I'll be happy to help you."

"That's good to know," Brynjolf said. "Selene is pregnant."

Aphia's eyes lit up. "Wonderful! Best wishes." She placed a hand on Selene's belly. "If you need anything, you know where I am."

Selene thanked her, and she and Brynjolf left the mine and headed across the square to the forge. Glover chuckled when he saw Selene and Brynjolf approach with the pickaxe.

"Crescius is quite a character, eh?"

"He said he hopes you drop it on your foot," Selene quipped.

Glover laughed heartily. "He's a crazy old man, but I love the guy. Hey, since you went through all the trouble of getting the axe back, why don't you keep it?"

"What? After all that?"

"I just wanted to remind the old codger that you can't just go around taking things from other people." With that, Selene and Brynjolf chortled. "I know, I know, it's ironic coming from me," he admitted with a chuckle. "Look, that pickaxe hasn't done me any good in years. By all the questions you've been asking, I'm assuming you're about to explore the island. Maybe you'll come across some stalhrim. If you do, bring it to me and I'll give you a good price for it."

"Sure thing, Glover," Brynjolf said, still trying to control his laughter.

* * *

After stocking up on arrows, potions, and first aid supplies, Selene and Brynjolf descended into the Raven Rock Mine. It was dark and musty, and the air grew hotter the farther down they went. They fought a few frostbite spiders along the way, climbing over the carcasses that completely blocked the path. They found several rich veins of ebony along the way and noted the locations so they could tell Crescius.

Perhaps two miles down into the shaft, they found a locked gate. The key did work on the lock, and they went through, but they found no evidence of a cave-in. They did, however, find a Nordic ruin. They killed several draugr as they navigated the narrow, ivy-covered maze of sarcophagi. In a round room that appeared to be some sort of council chamber, they found a nice chest loaded with gold and gems. There was some enchanted armor as well, but it was too heavy to carry through the ruin.

In a small, dark chamber, they found a patch of shimmering ice covering one sarcophagus. The room was uncomfortably hot, but the ice didn't melt.

"Stalhrim?" Selene guessed.

Brynjolf used Glover's pickaxe to break off a chunk to take back to him.

They got caught in the crossfire of a couple of soul gems in one narrow passage. Selene attempted to shoot the gems off of their stands, but she didn't have time to aim before one of them shot a bolt of lightning at her, and she cursed.

"I've got this," Brynjolf told her. "I don't want to risk hurting the baby."

"You'll let me fight draugr, but you won't let me dodge soul gems."

"I know it's a contradiction but blocking a sword is easier than blocking lightning. Just let me handle it," he grumbled impatiently. Ducking and dodging the lightning and grunting painfully when it hit him, he ran quickly up to one of the soul gems and knocked it off.

There were a lot of false starts and dead ends, but they were usually lucrative, often ending with a chest or urns containing gold. As was their habit, they kept the gold and the lighter items and left the heavier things behind. The long, winding tunnel finally terminated in a sheer drop to a cavern below. Several levels of pillars and tiers led down to a platform, which was flanked on both sides by a rushing stream and stood before a huge, round door, its intricate carvings glowing with red light. Two horizontal fissures leading away from the door also glowed red, as did the junction where the two halves of the door met. Selene figured the lights were part of some sort of puzzle seal.

"Well," Brynjolf sighed with resignation, "looks like it's either jump or go back."

"Jump," she declared. "We haven't found what we're looking for yet. Besides, the drop isn't that far."

She leapt down to the next level, then followed the drops and tiers to the floor below. Two draugr and two human skeletons lay on the platform and the steps leading down to the stream. One of the humans had evidently been killed fighting the draugr; the other seemed to have died lying on his bedroll. A greatsword lay next to him, a red aura shining around the brilliant blade, and a journal was curled in his hand. Selene pulled the diary away carefully and paged through it.

"This is Gratian Caerellius," Selene announced. "We're in a barrow belonging to the Bloodskal Clan, and that is the Bloodskal Blade. It seems the draugr were released when Gratian took the blade from its stand. It says his assistant was killed in the battle; I'm assuming that's him at the bottom of the stairs."

Brynjolf picked the sword up and swung it a few times. When he swung, it emitted a humming, red ribbon of energy. "Lovely!" Brynjolf remarked appreciatively.

"Gratian said he thought the direction of that ribbon of light might have something to do with opening the door, but he had been badly injured in the fight with the draugr and was too weak. He died before he was able to get the door open." She put the journal down and held her hand out. "Can I try?"

"Of course."

Brynjolf handed her the weapon and she swung the blade, testing its weight. She walked over to one of the horizontal cracks and placed her hand on it. The light pulsed around her hand, and the sword vibrated. Stepping back, she swung it and watched the band of light whip out from the blade. The ribbon merged with the beam emitting from the crack, and the wall shuddered. She swung again, harder this time. The doorframe hummed and vibrated, and the side she stood on began to move. The designs shifted and move up the wall, and the red light went with it. It stopped when the red beam was about halfway up the door, now vertical.

She looked back at Brynjolf with a grin. "I think we figured it out."

"Aye, try doing it vertically this time and see what happens."

It worked. A few swings of the Bloodskal Blade on either side of the door, and the designs on the door itself glowed brighter red. But the door didn't open. The light from the bands, however, settled into the crack at the center.

"One more time." She arced the blade in another vertical swipe, and the two halves of the door trembled, creaked, and parted. Selene grimaced when she saw what awaited them on the other side.

"You have to be kidding me," Brynjolf groaned as he looked at the tableau before him. It was a long corridor like a hall of stories, and perhaps twenty pendulum blades swung back and forth, blocking the path.

"This place just gets better and better, doesn't it?"

It didn't take long to realize it wasn't as bad as it looked. The blades were gathered in groups of four or five with lengthy gaps between the groups. They swung slowly and very close together, leaving a good second or two between each pass. They were easy to get past, and in only a few minutes they had moved on to the next room. It was long and narrow, sunken in the middle like an amphitheater, with a raised platform in the middle containing a chest. "Sunken" was the operative word; the chamber was under about four feet of water. A Word Wall stood at the other end of the room.

"Now, there's a happy sight," she said, stepping into the water, which was as warm as a hot spring.

When they got about halfway into the room, there was a screech, and a dragon priest came flying up out of the water. Selene reached for an arrow, nocked it, and shot before the creature could even get moving, and she managed to get another one out and fire before it reached them. The second arrow was enough to send it plummeting back into the water; and there was nothing left but a pile of soggy ash, some gold, and one of the creepy masks the dragon priests always dropped. She reached into the water and picked up the mask, handing it to Brynjolf with a cringe.

"They're not that bad," he teased her.

"They give me the chills," she complained.

"Go to your Word Wall. I'll get the gold and the chest."

She squeezed the water from hair as she walked up to the wall, where she absorbed the new Word of Power. _Mul _meant strength. She tapped into a soul inside her to get an understanding of the word, and an image drifted through her mind of herself, covered with an orange and blue nimbus in the shape of a dragon. _Dragon Aspect_, she thought to herself. This one would be fun to try out.

"_Mul!"_ she Shouted, and strength and power surged through her.

Brynjolf, who had just walked up, hair and armor dripping, gaped at her. "Was that what the Shout did? That's fantastic!"

Selene looked down at her hand, and it was indeed surrounded by light in the shape of scales and bone. It didn't last long, though, and after only a minute or so the light and her strength began to fade. "I'll be looking for the other Words of Power for this one," she noted. "What was in the chest?"

"Two bloody gold pieces. But the dragon priest had quite a bit of coin on him. Worth diving for, anyway."

A distant memory came to mind, and she laughed softly.

"What?"

"Farkas said once that he wondered why draugr hoarded gold. It's not like they could spend it."

Brynjolf chuckled as they began to look for an exit. They found the way out on the other side of the platform in the center and stepped into a room with a thick, black book sitting on a pedestal. Another chest rested against the wall, and Brynjolf checked it out while Selene looked at the book. An image of a many-tentacled creature was stamped into the cover, but there was no title. She opened the book and read the words, "The Winds of Change."

The world blurred around her, and she was suddenly somewhere else. "Oh!" she cried with a start. She looked around to ascertain that she was alone, not much of a comfort but at least there were no enemies accosting her before she got her bearings. Poor Brynjolf; he'd be scared to death. Truth be known, so was she.

The place seemed to be made of books. The floor was covered with pages, and the walls and archways along the path ahead were actually stacks of thousands of volumes. To each side of the path was an ocean of ink, from which many black tentacles waved lazily under a yellow sky. Further up the path, light fixtures that looked like big plants lined the path; others flew back and forth overhead. She could see little whirlwinds of pages here and there, and off to the side, hovering above the sea, were black masses of smoke and tentacles. A stairway led higher into the construct.

And then came the voice, thick, slow, and heavy.

"As I told you, your free will is an illusion. Why else would you be here?"

Hermeus Mora. Great.

"Where am I?"

"This is Apocrypha, where all knowledge is hoarded. Sate your thirst for knowledge in the endless stacks of my library."

"No. I want out of here."

"You want to learn," he argued. "Do you think I cannot sense your lust? My library calls to you. Use it. When you tire of your search, read your black book again to return to your mortal life. But know that the lure of Apocrypha will call you back. It is your fate."

A sudden weight in her knapsack made her realize the book had materialized. She reached back and touched it, as though grabbing onto a lifeline, but she had to admit she was curious. Thus, she started down the path. Sometimes, when she got too close to the ink, tentacles would lash out at her like a whip. She was able to avoid them for the most part, but one of them caught her leg and flayed the leather and skin right off. "Gods damn it!" she squealed as she leapt away from the edge.

Selene heard a shuddering sound and turned to find a creature with several bony arms, a slimy face with long tentacles, a cloak made of fuzzy feathers, and a toothy maw where its abdomen should be. It had no legs, only tentacles, and it floated a few feet above the floor. It was shooting invisible bolts of power at her that hummed like the energy ribbons from the Bloodskal Blade. They hurt like crazy and instantly sapped her strength. She nocked an arrow, aimed and shot, but it continued to hurl the energy bolts at her. One more arrow dropped the creature, and she sat down on the floor, exhausted.

"Seeker," Mora's voice whispered. Was that what the creature was? A seeker?

A dull ache spread through her abdomen, and her heart skipped a beat. She placed a hand on her stomach. "No, no, little one. Don't fret. I'll take good care of us."

She got up and looted the creature for a few gold pieces and a book she didn't already have, then pressed on. She found several books and soul gems as she walked the path, dodging the whipping tentacles which thrust out of small pools along the way. She came to a locked door, but it wasn't a standard, pickable lock, and she didn't see any sort of lever. One of the plant-like light fixtures bobbed merrily nearby, almost as though it was trying to get her attention.

"Scrye," said Mora's voice.

Selene reached out and touched the fixture, and it retreated into itself as if she had frightened it, but the door opened. She passed through many halls, arches and tunnels, all made of books, sometimes using a scrye to open a door. She found one more seeker, but she managed to shoot it before it saw her. She finally came to a courtyard that was enclosed by a high fence made of complex wirework. The panels resembled stained glass windows, only without the glass. Greenish clouds floated in the pale sky, and an apparatus hovered overhead, spewing out books, which drifted lazily on the breeze. The courtyard was actually quite lovely, but the creature emerging from the inkpool in the center did detract from the beauty of the place. It was perhaps eight feet tall, humanoid but with features like a fish and lots of long, spiky teeth. It spat inky tentacles at her, but she was too far away for them to catch her. She nocked an arrow and shot the creature in the face, that the arrow only seemed to piss it off, and it lurched across the courtyard at her.

"Oh, crap," she exclaimed, dodging the tentacles it spat. She slipped past him and ran several yards away, readying an arrow as she moved, then turned and shot it again, catching it in the chest just as it spat again. This time, the ink settled before her and turned into even more tentacles, which whipped up from the floor and grabbed at her. One of them connected with her already injured leg, and she squealed with pain as she leapt out of the way. The monster was coming at her again, and she nocked, aimed, and shot before it got close enough. This time is shrieked, but it still kept coming, and she was barely able to get out of the way before it stomped on her with its massive feet.

"Fuck me!" She took a breath and Shouted, _"Fus...ro dah!"_ but the creature barely noticed. It still charged after her, chasing her up a flight of stairs, and soon Selene had nowhere to go. She dropped the bow and drew Dragonbane, snarling as it reached her and swiped with its giant, clawed hands. She thanked the Divines for her speed as she ducked the hand and planted the sword into the creature's abdomen. It threw its head back and flailed its arms wildly, screaming in agony, and Selene had just enough time to remove her sword before it fell backward, tumbling down the stairs and into the inkpool. She sat down on the stairs for a few minutes, trying to catch her breath before getting up and preparing to move on. The creature was lying half-in and half-out of the inkpool, but she figured looting it wasn't worth getting lashed by another tentacle, so she left it alone.

Two scryes opened the way to a small room that sat beneath the book machine. A stone sculpture depicting a mass of tentacles dominated the center of the room, and another black book rested on a pedestal to the side. It was also entitled _The Winds of Change_, and Selene realized the book was no longer in her pack. There seemed to be nowhere else to go, and she was ready to get out of this place anyway, so she opened the book. At first it was blank, but as she watched, text began to bleed onto the paper.

_Behold the Book of Insight. Choose._

She read through the choices, and they seemed beneficial and pretty straightforward. Lover's Insight would give her more allure and an advantage over male merchants and enemies. Scholar's Insight would give her a better understanding of any books she read. Companion's Insight, however, was the one for her. This knowledge would allow her to fight alongside Brynjolf without risk of harming him. No attacks, Shouts or spells she used in battle would cause him injury.

Selene rolled her eyes. "Are you serious?" she said aloud. "If it sounds too good to be true, it usually is."

More words appeared on the page. _Insight is your reward. You have already paid the price._

"Fine, then I choose Companion's Insight."

Selene closed the book, and she was instantly back in Bloodskal Barrow. Brynjolf stood before her, watching her with concern. Her leg stung badly, and she gasped at the pain.

"You've got to stop doing that, love," her husband scolded.

"What happened this time?"

"You just stood there and read, and you sort of faded out, and I could see through you. I couldn't get your attention no matter what I did."

Selene told Brynjolf about Apocrypha, Hermeus Mora, the seeker, and the gift of Companion's Insight. Both agreed they wouldn't go out of their way to try it out. They ascended a long, spiral staircase and went through a short tunnel to a hidden doorway bearing a conventional lever. Selene pulled the lever, and they emerged into another part of Bloodskal Barrow. It seemed bandits had taken up residence in this section, and Selene and Brynjolf took care of them quickly and silently, as well as the ones they found outside.

It was dark out, and rain drizzled on them all the way back to town, where they went straight to the Retching Netch and crawled into bed—rather, Selene crawled into bed and Brynjolf lay down on his bedroll.

"I don't know if I want to sleep," he said. "What if we end up out there, working on that shrine?"

"We can't go completely without sleep, love. Besides, I'm exhausted. Let's just hope for the best."

If they went to the shrine, they didn't know it, because they woke up where they had gone to sleep. Selene dreamed of the hunt, not of Miraak, and though she couldn't say she was rested, at least she didn't have the disturbing feeling she had been enslaved overnight.

They got up and had breakfast, then found Crescius at his house.

"Good, you're back!" he exclaimed. "What did you find?"

"You were right, Crescius." She handed him Gratian's journal.

"Ha! I knew it! See, Aphia, his death wasn't because of a rockfall It was just a story to keep people away from the tombs."

"There's more. We found ebony in the mine and stalhrim in the ruin."

Aphia smiled. "You know what this means, don't you? It means we can open the mine. Give people jobs. Give people hope."

The old man seemed rejuvenated by the news, and he practically jumped up and down, a joyful expression on his face. He hugged Aphia, then looked over at Selene. "I believe I owe you a little more than a debt of gratitude." He went to a desk and retrieved a hefty coin purse. "This isn't much, but it's the best an old, retired miner can do."

"Thank you, Crescius," Selene said, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"No, my dear. Thank _you_."

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	19. The Dragonborn's Tale 19: Miraak

The Dragonborn's Tale 19

Miraak

Selene lay very still, silent so as not to wake Brynjolf, with her hand on her stomach, waiting. She had awakened to a fluttering in her belly that hadn't felt like a normal hunger pang, and she was convinced she had felt the baby moving. Brynjolf stirred an hour later, sat up in his bedroll and rubbed his eyes.

"Morning," he said sleepily.

"Morning."

He got up and came to the bed, where he sat down, leaned over, and kissed her, then moved down and kissed her abdomen. "Morning, little one."

With that, Selene felt another flutter. With a gasp, she quickly grabbed Brynjolf's hand and placed it over her belly, but unfortunately there was no more movement.

"It's still pretty early, isn't it?" he asked.

"Aphia said I should start to feel her moving any time now but that the movements would be few and far between for a while. Could be I'm just imagining it."

"Or you have gas."

Selene glared at her husband. "Of course," she muttered dryly, "mommy's little gas bubble."

He laid his head gently on her stomach. "Have you thought about what we're going to name her?"

"Hmm. Ben, of course, on the off chance that she's actually a boy. You pick a girl's name."

"I'm no good at that."

"I figured you brought it up because you had an idea."

He thought for a moment. "I like Rowan."

Selene chuckled. "You're assuming she's going to have red hair like you."

"Oh, she will," he replied arrogantly.

"I like Rowan, too. No, it can't be that easy."

"Why not?"

She ran her hand through his hair. "Well, I guess we can sit here all day and wait for the baby to move, or we can get going."

"We can wait awhile."

The baby didn't move again, so after a while they decided to get up. Today was the day. They had taken a day to rest, trade, and study a map with Glover, and now they were ready to head to Miraak's temple. They broke their fast, packed their supplies, and got on the road. Reports had indicated that there was construction around the Tree Stone, a shrine a few miles north of the center of the island where legend had it Miraak once had a temple there. Steep, snow-covered mountains dominated the north half of the island, so going to the southern tip and heading back north was easier than a more direct route. They would stop at the dwarven ruin Kagrumez to spend the night before completing the trip the next morning.

Selene and Brynjolf trekked south and rounded the end of the Bulwark, the massive stone wall that spanned several miles southward from Raven Rock, then headed north across sand- and ash-covered terrain. Everything was gray out here, as well; even the evergreen trees that dotted the landscape had a grayish cast to them. They hiked around lots of rock formations and climbed several hills, but they didn't encounter any enemies, only some hunters fighting a bull netch. With the lack of scenery and encounters it was a very dull trip, broken up only by the hunters and a brief stop for lunch.

"I wouldn't even mind seeing a dragon at this point," a bored Selene joked. "At least it would make things a little more interesting."

"Be careful what you wish for," Brynjolf warned her.

They reached Kagrumez late in the afternoon. The ruin was underground with only the peak of the great lift rising above the surface. Stairs led down to the pit that afforded access to the elevator, and a brass safety rail traveled around the perimeter at ground level. Near the staircase, they found a dead elven mage in a tent. A fire had been built in front of the tent, but it didn't appear it had ever been started. They found a few ingredients on the mage, including a chunk of human flesh, but there was nothing on him or in the surrounding area to indicate who he was or how he had died. The tent provided shelter from the wind, though, so as morose as it seemed, Brynjolf dragged the body outside, and he and Selene moved in. Selene used her Fire Breath Shout to ignite the logs, and they spent a cozy evening talking, making plans for parenthood, and waiting for tummy flutters. It warmed Selene's heart to see how excited Brynjolf was over the baby. When they talked about things they wanted to do, his eyes would gleam and his smile would light up his whole face. He liked to say he wasn't the fatherly type, but Selene could tell just by watching him that he had enough love in his heart to be a great father.

They headed out early the next morning, just as the sun was coming up over the horizon. A breeze from the east brought a chill along with the scent of the sea. If the map was accurate, they didn't have far to go, only a mile or two, as the crow flies. Unfortunately, the way directly north was barred by the steepest hill they'd encountered, and they had to walk around it, extending the trip a bit. Later that morning, they turned a corner and headed up a hill littered with dragon skeletons.

They climbed wide staircases and ashen slopes, passing through several stone arches like the ones being built around the Earth Stone. People chiseled away at the arches, chanting monotonously. They finally reached the top to find scaffolding leading up to an amphitheater, at the center of which was the Tree Stone. The arches immediately around the stone had been completed and were embellished with the same type of wired panels Selene had seen in Apocrypha. All around the amphitheater, mesmerized workers chiseled and droned. Selene noticed a ramp curving down around the Tree Stone.

One woman was not working. Unaffected by the spell, she darted from worker to worker, shaking them, slapping them, and pleading with them to come out of their stupor and leave with her. She was blonde, about Selene's age, her face rugged and her armor bulky. When she saw Selene and Brynjolf, she called out to them.

"You there. Why are you here?"

"I could ask the same of you," Selene responded.

The armored woman came over to them. "I am Frea of the Skaal. I am here to save my people—or avenge them."

"I'm Brynjolf, and this is my wife, Selene." Brynjolf waved a hand at the workers. "Do you have any idea what's causing this?"

"I am unsure. I do know it's taken control of most of the people on Solstheim. It makes them forget themselves and work on these horrible creations that corrupt the stones and the very land."

"Aye," Selene nodded. "I fell victim to it myself."

"Few are unaffected by the curse. I fashioned an amulet to guard me against whatever has taken hold of the people, but it is the only one of its kind. My father—Storn, our shaman—protects them in the village. He says Miraak has returned, but that is impossible."

"I'm not so sure. His cultists tried to kill me."

"Then you have as much reason as I to find out what is hidden below."

"What _is_ hidden below?" Brynjolf asked.

"Below is where the bulk of the temple lies. Miraak served the dragons as a priest in their order before their fall from power, but he turned against them. The tales say the dragons destroyed him for it."

"And you think he is in the temple below, controlling the people of Solstheim?"

"Aye, but I do not know why."

"By the chants the people are saying, I would assume he's trying to take over the world. Or destroy it."

Frea nodded. "That was why the dragons destroyed him. He wanted Solstheim for himself. If he is back, I must do what I can to save my people before it is too late."

"The Skaal, you said?" Selene mentioned.

"Aye. We are Nords who have lived on Solstheim for many generations. We serve the All-Maker and live in balance with nature instead of exploiting it, as others would. We live _with_ the land, not _from_ it."

Selene looked up at Brynjolf. "Well, it looks like we found what we were looking for."

"You will help me explore the temple and find a way to help my people, then?"

"Of course, we will. We'll help each other."

They followed the curved ramp downward until they came to a heavy, iron door. Frea pushed the door open, and they went inside. They checked a couple of rooms near the entrance for supplies but only found a couple of poisons and a blazing firepit with two cages containing burnt corpses suspended over it.

"Are there others here already?" Brynjolf wondered.

"Miraak's cultists come and go."

"That would have been good to know before we came in."

"My apologies. They're mages, skilled but not all that powerful. They should not be a problem for the likes of you."

With Selene taking point with her bow, they crept through dilapidated stone tunnels and explored ruined chambers as they went farther down into the temple. They fought and killed a pair of cultists in one room, and Frea proved to be a capable fighter. Afterward, she knelt over their corpses, apparently mourning their deaths.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "There was no other way."

Brynjolf rolled his eyes at Selene, and they continued on.

"We must be careful in these ruins," Frea warned. "Traps can be anywhere, and there will likely be many."

"I'm pretty good at spotting traps," Selene assured her. "Brynjolf and I have been in many ruins of this type. But I'll be careful."

Frea was right; the temple was heavily trapped, and they must have stepped around a dozen pressure plates before they reached a large room with a high, vaulted ceiling, a few sarcophagi, and a winding staircase leading downward. Several cages were suspended over the stairwell, all of them containing skeletons. The cages hung level with a high platform off to the side with a throne on the edge, but the stairs leading up to it had crumbled ages ago.

Frea went to the railing and peered at the cages. "I do not wish to imagine the kinds of things that happened in these chambers, what sort of suffering Miraak inflicted upon them. I wonder if it was in service to the dragons or for his own purposes."

"I couldn't say," Brynjolf mused, "but it looks like Miraak had a front row seat. I'd like to get up there and see if there's anything of value."

"But the stairs are knocked out."

"Heh. Not a problem." He started around the staircase toward an arched beam that stood near the platform, and Selene and Frea followed.

A couple of draugr popped out of sarcophagi on the way, and Brynjolf killed one and Selene got the other. Several cultists came up from the lower floors, and they did battle with them, Frea sustaining minor burns from a firebolt and Brynjolf taking a jarring blow to the head when an Unrelenting Force Shout sent him sprawling, but nothing serious. Once they had prevailed, Brynjolf dropped his knapsack and shield and began to climb. He shinnied up the beam until he was level with the platform; then he jumped across. He leaned over the rail and grinned at them smugly. "That's why I'm the best."

"That's why you're full of shit," Selene retorted.

"Impressive!" Frea congratulated him. "Was it worth it?"

Brynjolf disappeared, and they could hear him puttering around, obviously rooting through something up there. He finally came to the edge again and said, "Aye, it was worth the effort. I'm coming down." He went to the crumbled stairs and worked his way down, and Selene and Frea went over to meet him with his pack and shield. He handed Selene a heavy sack of gold. "There must be at least three hundred Septims in there."

"Very nice," Selene said as she handed the sack to Frea. "Hold onto that; we'll split it up when we get out of here."

"Oh, I couldn't—"

"Of course you could. That's the way it works. Let's go."

They navigated a labyrinthine burial hall and killed a handful of draugr, and aside from Frea's strange habit of apologizing to her victims, Selene and Brynjolf found her to be quite personable, and they got along very well. Eventually they found a hall of stories that was hung nearly end to end with pendulum blades. These were spread more widely than the ones in Bloodskal Barrow, and they moved faster, making getting through considerably more difficult.

Frea laughed. "I'm not going down there. I see a lever at the other end, but how will we ever get there to turn this off?"

"Don't worry about it; I've got this." Selene watched the blades to ascertain the pattern. Could she run through, or would the Become Ethereal Shout be the way to go? After a while she got a feel for the timing and noticed there was a period of about one second when the way was completely clear. She readied herself and waited until the pattern worked its way back around, and at just the precise moment, she Shouted, _"Wuld...nah kest!"_

She shot forward at blinding speed and reached the other end before the blades began to swing back down. The usual puzzle door was on the floor in pieces, and a portcullis blocked the way. Selene pulled the lever next to the door, and both the pendulums stopped swinging and the gate raised. She turned and waited for her companions.

Frea walked up to her slowly, eyes wide and hands over her mouth in amazement. "You're...Dragonborn," she whispered. "Miraak was...ah, that's why they tried to kill you."

"That's right. They called me the False Dragonborn."

They worked their way farther into the ruin, fighting cultists, draugr, and skeletons, and Frea began to get frustrated. "How much deeper can this go? I had been told Miraak's power was great, but to have built so large a temple...do _you_ have a temple?"

"What? Oh, sweet Talos, no! I'm not a god, and hero worship makes me uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry. I meant no offense.

"Let's keep moving," Brynjolf urged. "It can't be much farther now."

They reached a chamber where a fearsome-looking dragon skeleton was hung from the ceiling. Also in the room were several sarcophagi, a chest, and—Selene's favorite—a Word Wall. She went directly to the wall and began to learn the word, which she was thrilled to see was _Qah_, the second Word of Power of the Dragon Aspect Shout. Before she could tap into the understanding of the word, however, the ground shook and the sarcophagi began to burst open. She turned around and fought the draugr with Brynjolf and Frea, then retreated into her mind to commune with a dragon soul while they looted the bodies and the chest. Brynjolf found a key on one of the draugr, which opened a false back panel in the sarcophagus from which it had emerged. They went through the panel and then through a small antechamber to a large dining hall. There was a hallway leading out of the room and another small chamber, but it all seemed to come to an end very suddenly.

"A dead end?" Frea gasped. "Impossible! There must be something else."

They looked around, and Selene did find a handle hidden in a nook in the wall. She pulled the handle, and a doorway opened up in the dining hall.

They came next to a round room with a grate in the center and stands of ruined books around the perimeter. A doorway led to another room, also with a grate, and dominated by a sculpture of the heads three of the unnamed creatures Selene had encountered in Apocrypha. Closer inspection ascertained that this grate was actually a trap door, and stairs descended to the level below. The lever was very close to the mouth of one of the statues.

"I'll leave the honors to you," Frea said uncomfortably. "I do not want to put my hands anywhere near the mouth of that statue. It almost looks as if it will come to life at any moment."

"Chicken," Selene teased her with a chuckle.

Frea laughed as well. "I'll make it up to you."

Selene pulled the handle, and they descended the stairs. Frea had been wrong when she had said it wouldn't be much farther. They went down more stairs and through several rooms and long tunnels before beginning their descent down a winding staircase that seemed to go on forever. After navigating at least a hundred steps, the flight ended at a wooden door. Selene squealed in fright when she opened the door to find a dragon skull staring her in the face.

"Chicken," Frea quipped, bumping Selene's shoulder.

They walked around the skull and into a long hall with high ceilings and vaulted beams. The room ascended in a gentle slope to a raised platform at the other end, where several skeletons and draugr patrolled. They killed the undead sentinels and went up the stairs to the platform, where they found a large chest resting near a statue of a creature with many eyes and tentacles. Frea cringed at the sight of the sculpture, mumbling something about it being unnatural, but Brynjolf ignored it and looted the chest. Selene explored the area behind the statue and found a door with a pull chain. She pulled the chain and the door spun open onto a rocky tunnel. They walked another half-mile down through the tunnel before finally coming to a round, domed room with a pedestal in the center. The pedestal was topped with a sculpture of something that looked like a big flytrap and shone dim light on a thick, black book resting on it.

"There are dark magics at work here," Frea murmured. "Ready yourselves. That book...it seems wrong. It's as if it's here but...not. Still, it might be what we seek."

"It is," Selene told her.

Anxiety pierced Brynjolf's scent. "You're gonna read that, aren't you?"

"Do _you_ want to read it?"

"You know this book?" Frea asked.

"It transports the reader to Hermeus Mora's realm of Apocrypha—" Frea recoiled "—where they can obtain hidden knowledge. It's also fairly dangerous, which is why my husband is skittish. But if we can get some answers, we have to try."

Brynjolf took her in his arms and held her closely, then placed a hand on her stomach. "Just be careful."

Selene reached up and kissed him. "I will."

She opened the book and read. She materialized in Apocrypha as expected, but she wasn't alone. She was in a courtyard similar to the one she had seen before, standing in the center of a stone circle, and just ahead was a mage in brown robes and a gold mask that vaguely resembled those of the cultists. A huge, gold amulet hung around his neck. Half a dozen Seekers floated around the courtyard as well, but miraculously, no one seemed to notice her.

The mage spoke to the Seekers. "The time comes soon when—what?" He looked up, saw Selene, and stormed toward her, shooting lightning from his fingers.

Selene cried out and collapsed to the floor as the mage stopped and loomed over her. A dragon landed behind him and peered down at her. It didn't look like Skyrim's dragons. It was bluish, had a round, smooth head, and its lower jaw stuck far out with jagged teeth splaying out in all directions. It leered at her with something like an evil grin.

"Who are you to dare set foot here?" the mage demanded.

Selene realized who she was looking at. This was Miraak. Of course it was.

"Ah, you are Dragonborn! I can feel it. And yet..."

It felt as though some invisible force was holding her down, but she managed to meet Miraak's eyes. She glared at him, and he turned his head curiously.

"So you have slain Alduin," he observed. "Well done!"

"Stay out of my head, Miraak."

He chuckled. "You're brash for someone on her knees. I could have slain Alduin myself, you know, but I chose a different path. You have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can wield. _Mul kah div!"_ The orange and blue light of the Dragon Aspect surrounded him.

"Sure. _Mul kah!"_

Nothing happened.

"My realm is beyond you, little girl; you have no power here. I will control Solstheim as well. I already own the minds of the people. Soon they will finish building my temple, and I will return home." He turned to the Seekers. "She can await my arrival with the rest of Tamriel. Get rid of the other Dragonborn and send this one back from whence she came." He climbed onto the dragon's neck and flew away.

Two of the Seekers started to move toward Selene, and she still couldn't move. In an instant, they were on her, pelting her with invisible energy bolts. White-hot agony exploded throughout Selene's body as they hit her time and again. After a moment the pain started to fade from her head, limbs and chest, coalescing and intensifying in her abdomen, and she was helpless to stop it. Unable to fight back or even get up from the floor, she did the only thing she could: she screamed.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	20. The Dragonborn's Tale 20: Miscarriage

The Dragonborn's Tale 20

Miscarriage

The torture seemed to last forever, and Selene finally blacked out. She woke up lying on the floor in Miraak's temple with her head in Brynjolf's lap. The pain in her abdomen wasn't as bad, but there was definite cramping, and her back hurt. It also felt like she was lying in water.

But it wasn't water, and she knew it without even having to look down. It was blood. She reached up, wrapped her arms around Brynjolf's neck, and began to cry. "Bryn, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have gone."

"Don't worry about that right now," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "Let's just get out of here and get you safe."

"My village isn't far," said Frea. "We can carry her there, and I'll do what I can to heal her. There looks to be a way out through that doorway."

"The blood—"

"Never mind the blood, love." Brynjolf picked her up, and she was vaguely aware of Frea getting her gear.

Frea led Brynjolf across the hills toward her village, and Selene tried to keep from wailing in despair. Frea was asking questions and Brynjolf was answering as best he could, but they were about things that just didn't matter. Their baby was dead; Miraak had killed it. Nothing else mattered.

"What happened?" Frea asked. "She read the book and then it seemed as though she was not really there."

"She went to Apocrypha," Brynjolf told her. "What happened there is...anyone's guess."

"I saw Miraak," Selene choked out.

"What?" Frea said, stopping and turning back. "Where is he? Can we reach him? Can we _kill_ him?"

"No. Gods, no."

"But you went there. You went where he was."

"Aye, and look what happened," Brynjolf retorted.

"I want to show that book to my father. Perhaps Storn can make sense of what is going on."

Selene sobbed. "She doesn't understand," she whimpered.

"I know, love. I know."

Frea stopped at the top of a ridge and pointed to a spot down the hill. "You see that green light? That comes from the Wind Stone, where my people work against their will. The village is close now."

Brynjolf carried Selene through the snow, and Selene dumbly wondered when it had started snowing. Their baby would never see snow.

"The village is just ahead," Frea announced. "My father has put up a barrier to protect the few of us that are left. It is still holding; that's a good sign."

Frea led them to a small, rustic village comprised of several houses built around a well and an open-air shack. A dead horker hung inside the structure, and the scent made Selene nauseous.

"Put me down," she told Brynjolf urgently. He dropped her, and she fell to her knees and threw up. She crawled a few feet away and picked up a handful of snow, rinsing out her mouth with it, but she found she couldn't go any farther. She crumpled into the snow and started sobbing.

"Let's get her inside," said Frea, and Brynjolf picked Selene up and followed Frea to a small house just outside the circle of homes. She led them to a bedroom, where Brynjolf placed Selene on a small bed, and Frea leaned over her. Golden light appeared in her hands, and she passed them over Selene's stomach, but Selene knew it wouldn't do any good. There was no one down there to save.

"Stop," she whined. "Just stop."

"Frea, give us a minute, would you?" Brynjolf asked.

"Of course. I'll go speak to my father."

Brynjolf sat down on the bed, and Selene sat up and laid her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, his shoulders shaking, and they held each other, crying until they were spent.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"What happened, love?"

"Miraak. He didn't even do it himself. He just told the Seekers to get rid of the 'other Dragonborn' and send me back where I came from. Sweet Kynareth, it hurt so bad!"

"I'm kinda wondering where your sweet Kynareth was when all this was happening," he muttered. "We're gonna kill that son of a bitch, Selene; I swear it."

"No."

He pulled back and looked at her with confusion. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

She wiped tears from his wet cheeks. "I just want to go home."

Brynjolf closed his eyes and swallowed hard, grief dominating his scent, and nodded. "For now you need to let Frea take care of you. She might not be able to save...you're bleeding pretty badly, love."

Frea came in after a moment and handed Selene a healing potion. "Drink it down, my friend, and then let me use my healing spells. I'm not the best healer in the world, but I'll do what I can."

She nodded and drank the potion. Brynjolf moved out of the way while Frea worked, stopping once in a while to drink a magicka potion. Selene got sleepy and drifted off, and she awoke sometime in the night to find Brynjolf sitting on the floor, his head on the bed and his hand holding hers, sound asleep. She had been stripped of her armor and cleaned up, and she lay in a nightshift atop several folded layers of linen. It was time to change the linens, though, because they were soaked with blood and mucus. Her abdomen and her back cramped excruciatingly, and she turned on her side and clutched her stomach, rousing Brynjolf in the process.

"How are you feeling?" he asked sleepily. "Are you in any pain?"

"Some."

He reached for a healing potion on the nightstand and held it to her lips. She couldn't get a good drink, though, so she sat up and took the bottle from him, groaning as she did.

"Frea said the bleeding and cramps would last for a few days," Brynjolf informed her. "She did the best she could with her spells, but she said bleeding like this is normal with a miscarriage."

"Miscarriage," Selene scoffed.

"That's what it is, love. The fact that the bastard did it to you doesn't change what it's called. But Frea says you're doing fine."

Selene shook her head. "Not even close. How are _you_?"

"Not even close," he replied bleakly.

"Please don't hate me."

He sighed with frustration. "Selene, I don't hate you. Stop blaming yourself, and stop expecting me to blame you. You read that book because you had to. But believe me, if I'd have known what would happen, _I'd_ have read it."

"Miraak would have just killed you."

"Frea said there was no real danger of death in Apocrypha. Only madness."

"That would mean I miscarried on my own, and the timing for that was a little too convenient, don't you think? Nothing anyone says will convince me that Miraak didn't do this to me. And how does she know that anyway?"

"Apparently her father has had some experience with Hermeus Mora."

She lay back on the pillow, trying to get comfortable. It was an exercise in futility. "Let's leave here tomorrow."

"We can't. You need to rest, and Frea wants to keep an eye on you until the bleeding stops. And truth be known, I think she's hoping she can talk you into staying and helping them."

Selene tried to muster up any interest in helping free the Skaal from Miraak's embrace, but there was nothing. The only thing in her heart was grief, and the rest of her was just empty. There was no fight left in her. She wondered if there ever would be again.

* * *

There wasn't as much bleeding as they had expected, and the cramping stopped overnight. Selene only convalesced for a couple of days. Brynjolf rarely left her side, and she had to talk him into taking his meals. Even then he barely ate, and he hardly spoke. Frea would try to engage him in conversation, and his responses were curt and distant. Sometimes Selene would wake and see him just staring off into space with the saddest expression on his face. He was in so much pain, and Selene couldn't help much; she had lapsed into a deep depression herself. All she had done, all the fighting, the sacrifice, putting others' needs before her own or Brynjolf's, and for what? How could any of that matter if they couldn't even have a life of their own? Sometimes she would feel fluttering, and she just wanted to punch herself in the stomach. The phantom sensations were nothing but torment.

When Selene started to feel better, she told Brynjolf she was ready to leave. "I just want to be gone from this place," she confided.

"We'll leave tomorrow morning, then."

Frea, who was in the other room, overheard and came in. "You mustn't abandon us," she pleaded.

"Frea, I can't help you. I don't even know if I can fight anymore."

"At least speak with Storn before you leave. Tell him what you know."

Selene agreed, and Frea left the room, returning a few minutes later with her father.

"I am glad you are feeling better," the shaman told her. "I apologize for not visiting sooner, but maintaining the barrier around the village takes all my energy. Alas, my magic grows weak, and so does the barrier."

"It's fine, Storn. I understand."

"Frea tells me you saw Miraak."

"Aye. I read a book in his temple and went to his location."

"If what you are saying is true, Miraak was never truly gone. And if you could go to that place and see him...are you like him? Are you Dragonborn?"

"I am."

"Then perhaps you are connected with him. That may mean you can help. The few of us left free of control cannot protect ourselves much longer. You must go to Saering's Watch and learn the Word of Power that will help you heal the Wind Stone."

Selene shook her head. "I'm sorry, Storn, but I'm done. Miraak killed my child not four days ago, and I don't have the strength or the desire to go to some other ruin, fight a bunch of draugr, and learn a Word of Power. I just want to go home."

"But only you can break the hold on our people. At first they only went at night, but now every moment is spent building some strange shrine around the Wind Stone."

"And the Tree Stone and the Earth Stone," Brynjolf threw in. "But you're asking too much of her. She's demoralized and weakened."

"And she's our only hope."

Selene closed her eyes, fighting tears. No. She just couldn't do this. It was cruel of him to even ask. "I'm sorry, Storn. You're going to have to find hope somewhere else."

* * *

Selene and Brynjolf left the Skaal Village the next morning. They stopped for the night in Raven Rock to find that Geldis had a surprise for them. When he led them to the room they had occupied previously, they found a big, double bed.

"I had Fethis build it for you," the innkeeper told them. "The mine is open, and people are working. What you did for this town can never be repaid. The least I could do was make it so you can both sleep comfortably in my inn."

"Thank you, Fethis," Selene said, squeezing his hand. When he left the room, she and Brynjolf undressed and climbed into the new bed. She laid her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Mostly fine. Hungry, actually."

"I can go get you something."

Part of her wanted to say no—she hadn't had much appetite—but her stomach was growling. "Let's go out together. You should eat, too."

Brynjolf shook his head. "I'm not hungry." He got back up, dug into his pack, and pulled out a tunic and some trousers. "Wait here," he instructed while he dressed. "I'll see what Geldis has on the menu."

He brought back some venison, cheese, bread, and mead, and Selene ate ravenously, although the mead turned her stomach. When she was finished, she lay back down with Brynjolf. He trailed a finger across her belly and swallowed hard. "It's not fair," he whispered.

"No."

"Whenever I think about the little person that...part of me wants to find a way to Miraak and rip him limb from limb, but mostly I just want to curl up and weep."

"I know, love." She wiped a stray tear that trickled down his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. "I think the sooner we put Solstheim behind us, the better we'll feel."

* * *

Raven Rock was strangely quiet when they emerged from the Retching Netch the next morning. Although it was well past time for the marketplace to open, the forge was deserted and Fethis was missing from his kiosk. Only a couple of people milled around the town square.

"I wonder where everybody is," Brynjolf mused.

Selene's gaze wandered toward the Earth Stone. "Storn said they weren't just working at night anymore."

They met eyes and looked at each other for a moment, and then she shook her head. "No. I don't care. Let's just get out of here."

They hitched a ride on the _Northern Maiden_, and once again, Selene spent the whole trip leaning over the rail. "Perhaps it wasn't the pregnancy," she moaned. "Maybe sea travel just isn't for me."

It was with great joy—or at least as much joy as they could muster—that they stepped off the ship and onto the docks at Windhelm later that afternoon. They paid Captain Gjalund a hefty purse of gold for his trouble and went straight to Hjerim, where Selene sprawled on the bed and put her feet up. Brynjolf lay down with her and they napped for a while before getting up to eat. Selene's stomach was upset, but a bit of bread settled it.

"Let's plan on leaving tomorrow," Brynjolf said as they ate. "I'd like to get back to Riften as soon as possible. Maybe we can get on with our lives."

"I want to try again," she said impulsively.

He reached out and caressed her cheek. "I do, too. I've been feeling so defeated, and I don't want to let this bastard win."

"I just hope we made the right decision to leave."

"If you want to go back and fight, I'll be glad to go. I want revenge so badly I can taste it. But this is up to you."

Selene shook her head. "I don't think I have it in me. We'll just have to hope and pray for the best." She finished her last bite of bread. "I'm really tired. I think I'm going to go to bed."

"The market is still open. I'll stock up on supplies before everyone closes, and then I'll join you."

She got up and went to him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing the top of his head. "I love you, Brynjolf."

"I love you, too," he whispered, holding her close. "We'll get through this."

As she climbed the stairs, she found she was so weary she almost couldn't take another step. It seemed to take an hour to finally reach the bed, and she sighed with relief as she snuggled down beneath the furs. She drifted off with phantom flutters tickling her stomach.

**LINE**

She found herself in another place, but it wasn't the horrifying, book-laden landscape of Apocrypha. It was the sunny garden with soft grass, wildflowers growing nearby, and a picnic lunch. Kynareth lounged on the ground on the opposite side of the blanket. Selene picked up a strawberry and bit into it.

"Small comforts," the goddess noted with a smile.

"Any I can get, my lady." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a little girl in the meadow. The child was two, maybe three years old with fiery red hair that curled and cascaded past her shoulders. She scampered through the wildflowers, chasing a butterfly, giggling happily. The sight of the sweet toddler made Selene's heart ache. She knew all too well who that child was.

"I did not abandon you," Kynareth said, discerning what Selene was thinking. "I am unable to reach Hermeus Mora's realm."

"I didn't think you had abandoned me," she lied. "I just...it doesn't matter. It's over now."

"No, child, you cannot let Miraak live. If allowed, he will conquer Solstheim, and then he will turn his sights on the rest of Tamriel."

"It's not Alduin we're talking about here. The people can fight back."

"No. He steals their minds, dominates their will. Some are immune, but they are few and not enough to defeat him. It has to be you, Selene."

She ate another strawberry. "You know, my lady, it's all well and good that you bring me here and ply me with fruit when you want something from me, but I'm not in much of a world-saving mood these days, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Of course, I noticed. Why do you think I brought you here?"

The little girl had stopped chasing the butterfly and was now picking flowers. The sun glinted off her hair, highlighting a dozen shades of red and gold. When she had a handful of wildflowers, she turned and came toward Selene. She was a beautiful child with a sunny expression and big blue eyes. _Her_ eyes. Except for the eye color, she looked just like Brynjolf. She held out the flowers to Selene.

"Thank you, sweetie," Selene said as she took the flowers.

The little girl sat down in her lap and wrapped her arms around her neck. "I love you, mama," she cooed.

Selene held the child close and buried her face in her hair, squeezing her eyes shut tight and swallowing a lump in her throat. If she started to cry, she would never stop. After a moment, she looked up at the goddess. "Why do I think you brought me here? I have no idea. I didn't know you were this cruel."

"Cruel? How so?"

"Did you think bringing me here and showing me what I had lost would make me want to save the world? It just makes me want to go home more."

Kynareth laughed softly. "Oh, no, child. This is not the babe who died. This is the one who lived."

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	21. The Dragonborn's Tale 21: A Good Fight

The Dragonborn's Tale 21

A Good Fight

Selene awoke with a small bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, and she smiled and held them close to her heart. If not for the occasional gifties from Kynareth's world, she might have thought the visits were only dreams. But as she placed the flowers on the nightstand and felt the light fluttering in her belly, she realized it was no dream. It was real, and so were the baby's movements.

If it seemed too good to be true, it usually was. She would go to the temple this morning and see Jora, the priestess of Talos, just to confirm. She had faith in Kynareth, and in the blossoms lying on the nightstand, but she wasn't stupid.

She turned to Brynjolf, who was asleep next to her, and kissed his forehead. He mumbled incoherently, and she said, "I'm going out for a while. I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?" he asked, rousing a bit more.

"It's a surprise," she replied with a grin.

She threw on a dress and boots, then wrapped herself in her cloak, grabbed her sword, and left the house. Walking through the quiet, snow-covered streets of Windhelm in the early morning, she made her way to the Temple of Talos. An hour later, she let herself back into the house to find Brynjolf up and dressed in his armor, eating an apple and cheese at the kitchen table. "I figured you'd want to leave early," he told her. "Now, tell me. Where did you go?"

She stood over him and said, "Give me your hand."

He held out his hand, and she took it and placed it on her stomach. The timing was perfect; the flutter came almost immediately. His eyes flew open wide. "What the-?"

"I spoke with Kynareth last night, and I met our baby. "

Brynjolf grimaced. "Selene, that's not even funny."

"I was pregnant with twins, love. Only one of them died."

He gasped but didn't say anything, just looked at her with awe. After a moment, he reached out and pulled her close, resting his head just beneath her breasts. She wrapped her arms around him and held him, stroking his hair.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Am _I_ okay? Are _you_ okay?" He pulled back and got up from his chair, then sat her down and knelt before her.

"I'm fine," she replied. "I went to see Jora at the temple to make sure. She says yes, I'm still pregnant, and I'm perfectly healthy. She said the baby is very strong."

"You said you met the baby. What is it?"

"It's a girl."

"Little Rowan," he murmured softly. "You should take it easy until she's born. We'll be home in a few days and—"

"We can't go home yet, Brynjolf."

The smile fell from his face. "Why not?"

"We have to go back and defeat Miraak."

He shook his head defiantly. "No, you said you didn't want to fight him."

"Kynareth said it has to be done, and we can't wait until Rowan is born."

Brynjolf stood up and paced the kitchen floor, anger and worry flooding his scent. "Kynareth. Well, that's just lovely. She always wants something, doesn't she?"

"It's not just Kynareth, love."

"Oh, don't think I have forgotten the people in the Skaal Village who wanted you to rush right out to another ruin before you had even stopped bleeding. All right, fine. So we go back to Solstheim, and we stop Miraak. What then, eh? Someone else will come along and say, 'Oh, Dragonborn, we need your help,' and off we'll go. Except there's a problem with that, because it's not just the two of us anymore, is it?"

"It wasn't before, either, and you still went to Solstheim. Why is it different now?"

"It's different now because our child died, _you_ almost died, and the world barely seemed to notice. Now we find out all hope isn't lost, there's another child, and you want to risk _her_ life by leaping back into the lion's den. How am I supposed to be okay with that?"

"What makes you think _I'm_ okay with it?"

"Because you've already said yes!" Brynjolf shouted. "Kynareth says, 'Go save the world,' and you say, 'Yes, my lady. Whatever you say, my lady.' Well, _my darling_, she might not care what happens to you and the baby, but I do, and I say no fucking way are we going back there."

Selene stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "Please tell me you didn't just forbid me to do something."

"I didn't—I just—why are you even considering this?"

"What am I supposed to do, huh? Aye, Kynareth did tell me to go save the world yet again. She said if Miraak isn't stopped, he'll conquer Solstheim and then turn his sights on Tamriel. He has the power to take over the world, and he _will_ do it if I don't stop him."

"So you have to choose: risk your life and the life of our baby or doom the whole world."

"Pretty much."

Brynjolf ran a hand through his hair, growling with frustration, then stepped past her and headed for the door, picking up his sword, which was leaning against the door, and strapping it on.

"Where are you going?"

"Out. Just...out. I need some space."

"Bryn—"

The slam of the door cut her off. She sat back down at the table and cried for a few minutes, then wiped her eyes, got up, grabbed the cheese that he hadn't finished off his plate, and headed upstairs to get dressed, munching as she went. At this point she wasn't sure if they would leave today, or even where they would go, but she was more comfortable in her armor, so she donned it instead of a dress. It still fit perfectly in spite of the burgeoning baby bump, and she thought of how the leather had molded to her body when she had first put it on in Nightingale Hall. It was by far the most magical, mystical armor she had ever encountered, and she wondered if it would actually grow with her. That would be very convenient.

She rummaged through her knapsack and counted potions, and seeing she was low on healing potions, she went to the fully stocked alchemy lab Jorleif had installed and set about crushing ingredients and placing them in the alembic to brew. It was busy work, intended to keep her mind occupied, but her thoughts kept straying back to Brynjolf and their fight.

They rarely argued, but when they did they made more noise than when they made love. They usually fought fairly, but there was a lot of yelling. All things considered, this one wasn't all that bad. She understood how he felt. All the joy he experienced at finding out she was still pregnant was dashed the moment she said they had to return to Solstheim. He had watched her collapse, had watched her bleed profusely, had carried her for miles through the snow when he could barely contain his own despair, and now she was asking him to risk going through all that again, or worse. It wasn't fair, and he was right—they _were_ asking too much of her. She had done everything they had ever asked, had fought her way from one end of Skyrim to the other, had even gone to Sovngarde and defeated the World-Eater. She had done well, and now she should be allowed to go home, have her baby, and live a peaceful life with her husband and daughter. All she had to do was say no. But at what cost?

She placed a hand on her belly and said, "I wonder what you think about all this, little one. You were there with Kynareth. Do you remember? Do you understand what's going on? And do you even care, as long as I feed you now and then?"

Selene brewed enough healing potion for five large bottles, probably more than they needed, but who knew? If they went home, maybe Brynjolf could mix them in with some skooma and sell it as Falmer Blood Elixir. Or if they went back to Solstheim, maybe they would need them after all.

Brynjolf took his time coming back, and after a while, Rowan decided it was time for Selene to take a nap. The bone-deep weariness settled over her again, and she trudged upstairs and sprawled across the bed. She didn't know how long she slept, but she figured it was a couple of hours before she was awakened by banging on the front door. She leapt out of bed and clambered down the stairs, opening the door to find Wyl, the guard assigned to watch Hjerim, his fist raised to pound on it again.

"Stormblade!" he barked. "We need your help. A dragon is attacking the city."

"Let me get my bow," she replied without thinking twice. She retrieved her bow and followed Wyl out the door and through the alleys until they emerged by the steps just behind Candlehearth Hall. Brynjolf was already there, standing with Ralof and a handful of guards, some of which were firing arrows at the monstrosity that circled overhead. It was bigger than normal and a dark bronze color, its wings tattered and its horns extending out far from its head. This was a very old dragon.

Selene joined them, drawing her bow and firing, hoping it would come low enough for her to use her Dragonrend Shout so she could get it on the ground. The dragon roared as it passed over them, and it drew breath for a Shout, incinerating two of the guards and narrowly missing setting Candlehearth Hall afire. She took aim with another arrow, tracking its movements as it flew away, then letting loose as the dragon turned to come back for another pass. She caught it in the eye and it howled in pain, but it barely slowed.

"Shor's beard, this is a nasty one," Brynjolf observed as he stepped up behind her. "There must be ten arrows sticking out of its hide."

"Let's make it eleven," she muttered and shot again.

It stopped in front of her and drew breath for a Shout, but Selene beat it to the punch. _"Joor…zah frul!"_

The blast hit the dragon full-on, rocking it off balance, and it lurched and dropped to the ground, toppling down the stone steps that led up to the Palace of the Kings. Selene drew again as Brynjolf, Ralof, and a few others rushed in and started piercing it with their swords as it snapped at them, but before she could get another shot, it took to the sky again.

"Come back here, you bastard!" she cried. A few more arrows from Selene and the surviving guards, and the dragon started to falter. It stopped in front of her again, and its Fire Breath Shout met her Dragonrend. She dove for cover as flames sprayed at her, but screams erupted behind her. Before she could turn to see who was hurt, and dragon wobbled and fell onto the steps. She recovered and nocked another arrow, shooting over Brynjolf and Ralof's heads as they ran to the creature. Brynjolf was limping.

One of the guards managed to get in a critical strike to the dragon's good eye, and it shrieked and shook its head desperately. Brynjolf jabbed his sword into the soft flesh under its wing, and it finally gave up. With one last, terrible howl, the dragon collapsed and died.

Brynjolf sat down, and Selene ran over to him. "Are you badly hurt?" she worried.

"Nah, just singed a bit. By the Nine, I hate getting burned! But hey, it was a good fight. You okay?"

"Aye."

The dragon went up in flames, but the fire didn't gravitate toward Selene and she didn't get the sense of warmth and presence. The soul went to a figure that had appeared at the bottom of the steps. Brynjolf noticed him, too, and he scrambled to his feet and rushed at him, Chillrend at the ready.

"You bastard!" he snarled at Miraak.

"Bryn, wait—"

When he reached the dragon priest and swung his sword, Brynjolf realized he wasn't really there. Miraak stood before him, partially transparent, and laughed at him. "Did you think it would be that easy, fool?" he taunted smugly. Looking over at Selene, he said, "Not this time, Dragonborn. This one's mine. But I do appreciate the effort you put forth to kill him for me. Do you ever wonder if it hurts, having your soul ripped out like that?" With that, he disappeared and took the dragon's soul with him.

Selene stood there, mouth open and eyes blazing, unable to believe what she had just seen. "He took…that son of a bitch took my soul!" she growled indignantly.

"How did he do all that?" Ralof asked in bewilderment. "It's as though he wasn't even here."

"I don't know, but I didn't like it." To her husband, who had come back to her side, she said, "Did you see that? Of all the—I'm…I'm just speechless."

"But are you all right?"

"I'm fine." But she wasn't. She was furious, enough that her wolf spirit was trying to surface. Selene wondered what effect a shift would have on the baby and decided not to chance it. But that meant she had to calm down.

"Go home and get some rest," Ralof instructed. "We'll take care of the remains."

"Save me a bone and a scale, would you?"

"Of course. You know His Grace will probably want to see you after this."

"Well, if he asks for us, you know where to find us." She took Brynjolf's hand and started for Hjerim. She grumbled angrily as they made their way through the alleys toward their house. "I can't believe he just showed up out of nowhere and absorbed the soul like that! Especially after all we had to do to kill the damned thing."

"I haven't seen you this angry since the last time we saw the Blades," Brynjolf commented as they climbed the steps to the house and he let them in.

"I've just never…who does he think he is? I'm sorry, but he had his time as Dragonborn, and it's my turn."

Brynjolf chuckled. "This is over territory?"

"Maybe so. I've just never had to compete for a dragon's soul before."

"You know what disturbs me? The fact that he could appear here at all. If he can project his spirit into Mundus, who knows what he's capable of?"

Selene's fury was starting to wane, and she took his hand. "You still mad at me?"

"No," he replied, stroking her cheek. "Ralof and I had a long talk and a couple of tankards of mead. He calmed me down."

"We need to get you out of those trousers so I can look at your leg."

"I thought you'd never ask!" He wrapped his arms around her and trailed his lips down her neck.

She slapped him away playfully. "First we take a look at your leg. Behave, now."

"Oh, very well." He sat down on a bench at the long table in the front room and removed his boots, then slipped out of his trousers. "You know, it wasn't too long ago that you wanted to take my pants off just to get me naked."

"Look at it this way," she said as she knelt before him and looked at the burns on his leg. "After I treat your leg, you'll already be halfway naked." She went to her knapsack and pulled out some burn ointment, then applied it gently to the burns. "This doesn't bad at all, really. The way you howled, I thought it might be worse."

"Burns," he grumbled.

"I know, love." She handed him a healing potion. "Brynjolf, you know we can't let him live."

Brynjolf breathed a heavy sigh. "I know. We've seen what he can do, and I know we have to stop him. Or rather, _you_ have to stop him. It's going to come to that, you know. He won't come here to fight you. You'll have to go to Apocrypha, and I can't go there with you. Apparently Kynareth can't, either."

"I wonder if Nocturnal can."

"Do you think she'll just run right over to Apocrypha and help you out?"

Selene glared at him. "Do you have to be so sarcastic?"

"Selene, _we're_ beholden to _her_, not the other way around."

"Then I'll just have to rely on the luck she brings and my instincts."

He reached out and placed a hand on her belly. "I barely had time to get used to the good news before everything happened. I'm sorry I got so angry."

"You have nothing to apologize for, my love. Believe me, I would just as soon not go. The risks are too great. But I don't believe I have a choice, and it's not just because Kynareth told me to go."

"I know. And if I didn't agree before, Miraak's little stunt behind Candlehearth Hall convinced me. All right, I'm in. Let's go back to Solstheim and show this bastard what a true Dragonborn can do."

Selene nodded. "But first, we go upstairs and make up properly."

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	22. The Dragonborn's Tale 22: Back on the Jo

The Dragonborn's Tale 22

Back on the Job

When they returned to Raven Rock the next afternoon, the town was all but deserted. One lonely guard patrolled the town square, and he didn't have much to say; he didn't know what was going on, but he was determined not to let it keep him from his duty. Selene and Brynjolf went into the Retching Netch, but it was also empty. They made themselves at home anyway, settling into the room with the big bed and grabbing drinks—wine for Brynjolf, tea for Selene—from the bar. They relaxed for a couple of hours, making a point not to sleep, at least until they had visited the shrine of Kynareth, and had some cheese and dried meat (and a very large sweetroll for Selene) before heading out again. Sure enough, they found pretty much the entire town at the Earth Stone, working on the temple.

"Here at his shrine," Glover Mallory chanted with the others.

Brynjolf shook his friend's shoulder gently, not really expecting any sort of response, and he didn't get one.

"We shouldn't have left," Selene lamented.

"We've only been gone two days. How could we have known things would get this bad so fast?"

"Let's just get up to the shrine and get moving."

They visited the shrine of Kynareth and received her blessing, then set out, heading south and going up through the middle of the island again. They traveled through the night and stopped to rest for a few hours at Kagrumez before setting out at midday and giving the Temple of Miraak a wide berth. They came upon a sacrificial altar with a dead Nord woman on it, but no one was around and there weren't even any scents leading up to it. This woman had been murdered days ago and then left alone to rot on the altar. Selene was tempted to build a pyre and send her off to Aetherium properly, but time was passing and Miraak was getting stronger by the minute, so she reluctantly left the woman on the altar.

At the top of the next mountain, they encountered Moesring Pass, which was a hollow in the hillside built up with guard towers and catwalks made of driftwood and boar's hide. There were a few small huts, and lots of barrels were stored about, but there seemed to be no one there—at least until the barrels started bursting open.

Four little blue men popped out of the barrels, wielding spears that were no bigger than Selene's arrows and speaking in a guttural language.

"Rieklings," Brynjolf guessed.

Selene chuckled. "Aren't they cute?"

They didn't seem so cute anymore when a spear sailed up from behind and pierced her shoulder. "Damn it! Brynjolf."

She turned to the side, and Brynjolf had just enough time to yank the spear out of the shallow wound before the four Rieklings from the barrels set upon them. Brynjolf turned and engaged the swarming little savages, and Selene pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it while looking for the one who had shot her. He was well hidden among the driftwood, and Selene didn't see him. She could smell him, but she wasn't about to start tracking him until she had a better idea of his location. Not when he had spears trained on her.

"How are you doing?" she asked Brynjolf over her shoulder.

"Doing fine," he told her as he dodged spears and swung at the Rieklings. "You worry about the one who's—ow!"

Selene turned to see a spear sticking out of his side. She used the arrow she had nocked on the Riekling who had thrown the spear as Brynjolf pulled it out. As she was drawing another arrow, the hiding Riekling gave his position away by throwing another spear. She dodged the missile and fired one of her own, and the little man ducked behind a hide screen. But she knew where he was now, so she charged, nocking another arrow on the way. She found him crouched, spear in hand, jabbering at her in his strange language. He thrust the spear at her, and she resisted the urge to yank it from his hand and stab him with it. Instead, she stepped back, aimed and shot him. He fell to the ground with an exaggerated whimper and moaned for a few seconds before he died. She turned to see Brynjolf just finishing off the last of the Rieklings who had come out of the barrels and then yanking another spear out of his shoulder. She rushed back over to him, ready to take on more. No more came out, though, and after a few moments they relaxed.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, taking a quick look at his shoulder and side. His armor was barely even damaged.

"Nah, I'm fine. The spears are dull and they don't go in far. You?"

She rubbed her shoulder and shrugged. "I'll live. Let's sit down and rest for a few minutes, though."

Selene rested while Brynjolf looted the Rieklings and their camp. Someone had mentioned they had a fondness for household goods, and it was true. They had in their possession at least fifty goblets and dozens of plates and bowls. Brynjolf found one barrel stuffed to the brim with ladles. They also had lots of books and even a couple of statues of Dibella. He found about a hundred gold pieces and six flawless gems, which he dropped in Selene's hands.

"Ooh, shiny!" she squealed.

"I have a feeling that's just what _they_ were thinking. Are ready to move on?"

He reached a hand out to her, and she took it and pulled herself up. "Aye, let's go."

They wound their way through the pass and down the mountain until they reached the bottom near the shoreline, where the trail started back up the other side. The sun had set, and though the air was frigid, the sky was crystal clear, with millions of stars twinkling above.

They passed a ruin near the top that was home to two trolls. The creatures didn't see Selene and Brynjolf, and they were far enough away for Selene to take them out with a few swiftly fired arrows before they got close enough to fight. They didn't detect a third one, though, until it was almost upon them, and Brynjolf had a hairy battle taking that one down. Selene stood back with an arrow trained on it in case it started to get the better of her husband, cursing herself the whole time for not smelling the it before it attacked.

According to the map, this ruin was Benkongerike, and Saering's Watch was right next door. In fact, they were practically touching, and it was only a five-minute walk down the trail. They found the path to the top of the ruin, where Selene could already hear the chants of the Word Wall, but they were stopped on the way by a dragon, a blue, slimy one like Miraak had ridden in Apocrypha. They stopped and readied their weapons, but it didn't attack at first. It just sat there and stared at them.

"That is the strangest dragon I've ever seen," Brynjolf whispered. "And why isn't it attacking?"

"I don't know, but I'm not going to let the opportunity go to waste. _Joor…zah frul!"_

The dragon shrieked and briefly took to the sky, only to crash to the ground a few yards away. Selene lobbed arrows at it and Brynjolf moved in with his sword, and the dragon sent a painful frost blast at them. Brynjolf took a swipe at the dragon, who snapped at him half-heartedly before backing away. It actually averted its eyes. For a brief moment, Selene questioned whether or not she should even kill it, but then it snapped at Brynjolf and the decision was made. She Shouted again, then sent a final arrow into its head, and it collapsed.

Brynjolf shook his head as if to clear it. "I've never been in the path of your Dragonrend Shout before. It was…jolting."

Flames rose up around the dragon, and Selene was relieved when Miraak didn't appear and take the soul from her. This dragon was a male named Stiildusbiigein, _Quiet Blue One, _andSelene got the idea that _blue_ didn't describe the color of his flesh as much as his mood. Stiildusbiigein hadn't been resurrected by Alduin but had survived in peace and solitude for centuries, much like Paarthurnax, but he was lonely.

She sighed sadly. "We shouldn't have killed this one. He was peaceful."

"The frostbite on my fingers would suggest otherwise," Brynjolf grumbled.

They took a bone and scale from Stiildusbiigein's remains and found a hidden staircase that took perhaps a mile off the winding path leading up to the Word Wall. At the top, they found a skeleton on an altar holding two crossed swords, both iron and not very valuable, but there was a chest that Brynjolf looted while Selene went to the Wall. Before she could absorb the Word of Power, however, a draugr deathlord erupted from its coffin. She quickly drew an arrow and shot it, and Brynjolf charged in to finish it off, taking a hefty gash in his side in the process.

"Gods damn it!" he cried. "In the same place as that Riekling got me. I need to get a bow and start fighting from a distance like you."

Selene pulled the leather back and had a look at his side. "It's going to need stitches. Give me a minute."

Brynjolf took his cuirass off while Selene absorbed her Word of Power. It was _Gol_, Earth. She reached inside for Stiildusbiigein, and he gave her his understanding of the Word.

"What does that one do?" Brynjolf asked as she dug in her pack for first aid supplies.

"It's hard to explain, but I can basically bend the earth to my will."

"I don't understand that."

"When I Shout at the standing stones, I can cleanse them of the curse."

"But how is that bending the earth to your will?"

Selene shrugged. "As I said, it's hard to explain. This Shout is a lot less straightforward than most of the others I use."

After Selene patched Brynjolf up, they set out again, heading east toward the Skaal Village. They passed the Wind Stone just as the sun was coming up, and Selene tried the Shout. Brynjolf stayed back, and she stood just under one of the arches.

_"Gol!"_

With that, the arches crumbled and fell away, the green glow of the stone faded, and the people came out of their stupor and began ducking for cover.

"Lurker!" one of them cried as the giant fishman emerged from the water and began spitting inky tentacles out in all directions.

"Sweet mother of Akatosh," whispered Brynjolf.

"So that's what they're called," Selene mused.

While several of the workers ran away, two of them stayed to fight the monster, and Brynjolf joined them. Selene stepped back and shot. One of the workers got caught in the Lurker's tentacles, but the other swung his blade furiously, as did Brynjolf. After a few minutes, the tentacles holding the first worker fell away, and he rejoined the battle. Just like the Lurkers in Apocrypha, this one was hard to kill. Brynjolf was stunned when the creature swiped him out of the way with its great, clawed hand, and he ended up pulling his stitches in the fight. Selene screamed in pain when she was sprayed in the face with the acidic substance the Lurker spat, which has missed her eyes by only an inch. The workers took several minor injuries, including one broken foot when the creature stomped on it. But they persisted, and after what must have been half an hour, they prevailed. Selene pulled seventeen arrows out of the Lurker's hide.

"Ugh!" Brynjolf groaned. "I hope I never see another one of those!"

"Somehow, I think you will, whether you want to or not." She pressed gingerly on her cheeks, which stung from the acid burns.

One of the workers, a woman who had stood out of the way and watched, came over to them. "What…what sorcery is this? The whole village is here."

"Miraak placed a curse on the stone and had you under his spell," Selene told the woman.

"Were we…building a temple?"

"Aye."

"I pray to the All-Maker that whatever it was doesn't happen again," remarked one of the men who fought with them as he took off his shredded leather coat and examined a wound in his chest.

"I think she has cleansed the stone," said Brynjolf. "It shouldn't happen again, gods willing."

They started up the hill toward the Skaal Village, Brynjolf and the other worker helping the man with the broken foot, and the woman introduced herself to Selene. "I am Fanari Strong-Voice, the leader of the Skaal."

"I'm Selene Stormblade, and this is my husband, Brynjolf of Riften. Storn sent us to cleanse the stone; I need to speak with him and tend to our wounds."

They found Storn and Frea sitting on a bench outside his home, drinking mead and munching on dried horker meat. Selene's stomach wrenched at the smell of not only the cooked horker but the one that still hung in the shack across the village, but she swallowed hard and managed not to heave.

"The air is different," said Storn in greeting. "My people are returning, and _you_ have returned."

"I knew you wouldn't abandon us," Frea sighed.

"I'm sorry we left," Selene told her with a squeeze of her hand. "But your people are free now."

"You have proven yourselves allies to the Skaal," Storn announced, "and so the Skaal will be allies to you."

"There's more good news," said Brynjolf.

"Oh?" Frea turned her head curiously.

Selene nodded. "We've learned that I'm still pregnant."

"What? I don't understand."

"The reason there was so little bleeding was because I was bearing twins and only one of them died. There was a second child, and according to the healer in Windhelm, she's perfectly healthy."

With that, Frea stood and wrapped her arms around Selene. "Oh, my friend, I'm so happy for you! Come inside, and let's have a look at your wounds."

They followed her inside, and Storn went in with them and sat down at the kitchen table. While Frea stitched Brynjolf's side and applied healing magic, Selene retrieved the burn ointment from her knapsack and dabbed it on her stinging cheeks, then swallowed part of a healing potion. "All right," she said to Storn, "what do we do now?"

"You have learned the Shout, then?"

"Aye."

"If it worked on the Wind Stone, it will work on the others as well. All must be cleansed."

"Except the Tree Stone," Frea warned. "Until Miraak is defeated, I fear the Tree Stone is lost."

"Cleansing the stones won't stop Miraak," Storn told them, "but it will slow his progress."

Selene shook her head. "Then it's not enough. I have to stop him altogether."

"I'm afraid I cannot help you with that. None here can. You will need the knowledge Miraak himself has learned. Do you still have the Black Book you had before?"

Selene took the book out of Brynjolf's pack and handed it to Storn, who held it as though it were covered in slime. "So this is it, eh? It does not look like something of the Dragon Cult. It is dark, unnatural. I'll have nothing to do with it." He handed it back to Selene, and she put it back in the knapsack.

"Then we've already lost," she groaned.

"Perhaps not. The Dark Elf wizard Neloth may be able to help. He came to us some time ago, speaking about Black Books. I believe he may have a great deal of knowledge about them. You can find him in the south, at Tel Mithryn. But be cautious, Dragonborn. There is something else at work here; I know not what."

"We should take care of the stones first, don't you think?" Brynjolf asked his wife from where he lay on the same bed Selene had convalesced in.

"Aye. Slow Miraak's progress and release the hold he has on the people of Solstheim. If one of you can show me where they are on the map, we'll make a plan."

"Of course, but stay the day and night before you start again on your journey," Frea urged them. "Brynjolf is hurt, you both look exhausted, and you must take care of that child."

"We thank you," said Selene, "but we've taken up your beds too much already."

"There are extra beds in the Greathall. I'll take you to Fanari Strong-Voice, and she will get you settled. I'm all finished with you, Brynjolf." She patted him on the arm, stood up, and took Selene's hand while Brynjolf put his cuirass back on. "You've been good friends to us all."

"I'm just happy we were able to repay your kindness, Frea."

"And you have, a thousand times over. Come. Let us go to the Greathall."

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	23. The Dragonborn's Tale 23: Cleansing

The Dragonborn's Tale 23

Cleansing the Stones

Selene and Brynjolf spent the night in the Greathall as guests of Fanari Strong-Voice. A few of the villagers came in to introduce themselves, thank Selene and Brynjolf, and hear their story. They were fascinated with the Dragonborn and her defeat of Alduin, as well as the quest she and Brynjolf were currently on. The Skaal were unlike any Nords Selene had ever met. Frea had talked about how they lived _with_ the land instead of _from_ it, and talking with the others, Selene finally began to understand what she had meant. They took only what they needed from the land and gave back whenever they could. They were as likely to plant a tree as to cut one down, and they made a point of thanking the All-Maker for everything they consumed, even water.

Most of the Skaal were personable, but Wulf Wild-Blood, who introduced himself as the Skaal's First Hunter, stared at Selene as though she were prey he was stalking. It was disconcerting, as were his scent and the odd kinship she felt with him. He was human, but true to his name, there was a wildness to him that defied description. He was part of the Skaal, a long-standing, well-respected member of the community; but he was also separate. Much of his time was spent alone, and he was happy that way. He mentioned a brother, Toirkild, whom he said was missing.

"I fear he has fallen in with a pack of werebears," he told Selene. "If he has become one of them, he may be lost to me."

"Not necessarily," she commented. "Not all weres are feral."

He gave her a hard stare. "So I understand," he said pointedly. "Still, in your travels, keep an eye out for him. Even if he is lost, it would mean a lot to know what has happened to him."

"Certainly."

One man was distinctly out of place. He was a Nord but not a Skaal, well dressed and intellectual. "You're not from the village, I assume," Brynjolf asked him.

"Oh, no. I hail from Solitude originally. I'm here to learn about the history of Solstheim. I've been here…oh, my, I guess it's been nearly a year now. They think I'm a bit odd, but they've been very hospitable."

Fanari patted the elderly man's hand. "We're actually very fond of Tharstan. While he has been here to study us, he has been more than willing to help out wherever he can."

The next morning, as they were starting to head out of town, Wulf Wild-Blood stopped Selene. "The Beast Stone is south of here, near Thirsk Mead Hall. The Nords who live there were once part of the Skaal, but they have grown fonder of filling their bellies with mead than serving the All-Maker. They should not give you any trouble, but beware: Rieklings also prowl that area." He gave Selene a quick bow and started to walk away but stopped and turned back. "You have the blood of a wolf and the heart of a bear. You understand the hunt like few others."

"Aye, I do."

"Safe travels and good hunting, Dragonborn."

"Thank you, Wulf."

"What was that about?" Brynjolf asked as they left the village.

"I think he knows I'm a werewolf."

"How?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "He's human, but he's…different."

"They're _all_ different. I was talking to their woodcutter, and he only cuts up dead trees. He won't take down a living tree."

"They are very particular about their relationship with the land."

"I mentioned Glover in Raven Rock, and he got such a look of distaste on his face. He said big cities like that are a blight on the All-Maker's land."

"Big city? Raven Rock?"

Brynjolf shrugged. "See what I mean?"

They headed south/southeast over rocky, snow-covered terrain and reached Solstheim's eastern shore around midday. After stopping for lunch and a brief rest, they continued southward until they happened upon a camp on the beach. Several tents had been erected around a large fire pit, but the site didn't appear as if it had just been thrown up for the night. The half-dozen Nords that moved around the camp had been there for a while and didn't look like they were leaving any time soon.

A woman in leather armor was talking to a man who appeared as though it had been a while since he'd been in a good fight. His armor was rugged, but he was a little soft and flabby. "How are you holding up?" she asked him.

"It's rough out here, but I'm getting by."

She patted him on the shoulder. "Not everyone was built for this kind of life. There's no shame in that."

Brynjolf looked at Selene and rolled his eyes.

The woman went to the fire and sat down next to a man with a red Mohawk, beard, and warrior's braid. _He_ was solid, much more muscular than those around him. "I wish you could relax a little," he said, patting her knee.

"I don't want to get too comfortable here, Kuvar. We need to be back up there."

"This is a decent spot. We're right on the water. This could grow into something respectable."

"_Thirsk_ was respectable." She looked up as Selene and Brynjolf approached the fire. "Good day, friends."

"Good day," Selene replied. "Did I hear you mention Thirsk?"

The woman grimaced. "Aye, it's just up the hill. It was once our home, until we were kicked out of…some Rieklings have taken it over."

Brynjolf gave her an amused smile. "You were overpowered by Rieklings?"

"They had greater numbers," she snapped indignantly. Then she seemed to shrink a little bit and said, "Well, it didn't help that we'd grown a little too comfortable up there. Too much mead, too few battles."

"This place could be good for us," Kuvar said. "Living off the land will toughen us up."

"No! We must take back our mead hall. I just don't know how we're going to do it with this band of lazy, out-of-shape slobs."

"What if you had two extra warriors?" Selene suggested.

"Are you offering to help?"

Selene looked up at Brynjolf, who shrugged. "Sure, why not? I'm Brynjolf, and this is Selene."

"I am Bujold, the leader of these layabouts." She stood up and called out to the others. "Hey, you lazy milk-drinkers, get over here!" The Nords started to wander slowly over to the fire. "You're already starting to settle in here and let those Rieklings have our mead hall. But we belong in Thirsk, not camped here on the shore. All I had to do was mention our little infestation to these outsiders, and they volunteered in a second. They have more fire than any of you! I want to show them that we still have spirit. Now, let's get up there and kill us some Rieklings!"

At first, the Nords looked at Selene and Brynjolf like they had horns, but after a moment they started moving back to their tents. They emerged armed, armored, and more enthusiastic than before. When they were all gathered, Bujold issued a battle cry and started up the hill at a dead run. The Nords followed her, and Selene and Brynjolf brought up the rear.

Bujold had called the problem at Thirsk Mead Hall an infestation, and Selene understood what she meant. The place was crawling with Rieklings. The party charged in, still capable warriors even after being softened up by years of complacency, at least against the Rieklings. The eight of them took out seventeen of the little men, inside and out of the mead hall, in just a few minutes with only minor injuries. As soon as everyone was patched up, one of the women started going around and collecting all of the Rieklings' spears.

"What are you doing?" Brynjolf asked her.

"I'm going to display these in and around the mead hall as a continuous reminder of what happened here. We need to strengthen ourselves and stay strong, lest this happen again. If you fight any more Rieklings in your travels, bring me their spears. The more the better."

"Will do."

Bujold approached Selene. "That was almost exhilarating! How about you?"

"Oh, I love a good fight."

"I need a warrior like you to be my second. Will you come with me?"

"Where are you going?"

"Hrothmund the Red founded Thirsk Mead Hall when he took a group and left the Skaal. Each new leader receives his blessing when he or she takes power. I've received it in the past, but now that we have retaken the hall, I need to get it again. It should be an easy quest, but I need a witness, and…well, you see the kind of horker-brains around here. What do you say?"

Selene wanted to say, "You should have more respect for your people, you pompous bitch." Instead she said, "I wish we could, but we're on a quest of our own. The All-Maker's stones have been corrupted by Miraak, and Brynjolf and I are cleansing them. The people of Solstheim have been enslaved, so the mission must take priority."

"I understand. Would that these layabouts had your ambition! Well, the Beast Stone is just up the hill and around the bend. Good luck in your quest, and thank you for your help today. If we can repay you, you need but to ask."

They left the mead hall and headed up the hill to the Beast Stone, which was guarded by a cultist, who attacked with an ice spike spell. After Selene fired a couple of arrows at the mage, Brynjolf was able to work his way past the ice spikes and finish him off with the sword. Two Rieklings worked on the temple, and when Selene cleansed the stone, they awoke to help them with the Lurker.

"Damn it," Brynjolf cursed as he dodged the tentacles and inky acid the creature spat. "We're going to have to fight one of these at every stone, aren't we?"

Selene fired an arrow at its head. "Most likely."

They managed to get through the battle without injury, and as soon as the Lurker was dead, the two Rieklings ran into the woods. Brynjolf started to pursue them, but Selene shook her head. "Let them go," she moaned. "They helped us kill that thing, and I'm tired."

They went back to the mead hall, where Bujold gave them food and a bed for the night. Brynjolf helped the Nords clean up while Selene rested. Hilund, the woman who was collecting spears, knelt next to her.

"You're very pale. Are you sure you weren't injured?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm just exhausted. I'm pregnant, and I think Rowan is telling me I pushed myself too hard today."

Hilund reached out and touched Selene's stomach, and Selene realized she was going to have to get used to that. Whenever she said she was having a child, people always wanted to touch her belly. "Best wishes to you and your child. I'll let you get some sleep."

When they left the next morning, Brynjolf sighed with relief. "That's quite a group," he muttered. "Even after everything we went through yesterday, most of them would still rather sit around and drink and tell stories. Bujold's not much of a leader. Mostly she just grouses at them. They turn to Kuvar for their real needs."

"Kuvar. The one with the Mohawk?"

"Aye. He's married to Bujold. He's a much better leader, or he would be if she would let him."

They passed the snowline shortly after they left Thirsk, and for a while the terrain was actually covered with lush, green grass. It wasn't long, though, before the grasslands gave way to the sandy ash and rock they had grown used to. The air was dry and powdery with a faint, smoky scent, and more ash from the Red Mountain was drifting to the ground. They passed an occasional dragon skeleton on the way, and as they neared the southern shore they began to encounter giant, house-size mushrooms. The largest was Tel Mithryn, which was at least a hundred feet high and could be seen for miles. Storn had told them Tel Mithryn was hollow and the wizard Neloth made his home there. It stood amongst several others where his household staff lived.

Selene and Brynjolf fully intended to visit the wizard to ask for his help with the Black Books, but they weren't here for Neloth today. The Sun Stone, which stood in the shadow of the great structure, was their focus this afternoon. A handful of bandits slaved on the temple surrounding the glowing stone, and they were less enthusiastic about helping Selene and Brynjolf fight the Lurker than the Rieklings had been. They were getting better at it, though, having taken on several by now and learned how they fought, and they managed to kill it on their own. They both sustained wounds requiring stitches, and the bandits stood around and asked questions as they healed each other.

"What happened?" a male Dunmer in bonemold armor asked. "Why were we building that temple? What was that creature?"

"That was a Lurker," Selene told him as Brynjolf treated a gash she had sustained when she'd hit her head after a tentacle had tripped her. "They guard the standing stones, and they're a bitch to fight. A little help wouldn't have gone unnoticed. As for why you were building the temple, you were enslaved by Miraak, a dragon priest who is trying to come to Nirn from Oblivion and take over the world."

A couple of the bandits laughed, evidently not believing her.

"Thank you for saving us, then." The Dunmer in the bonemold pulled a dagger. "Now you can give us your possessions."

Selene and Brynjolf looked at each other and chuckled. "You have to be kidding," said Brynjolf. "Weren't you paying attention just now?"

"Aye, but there are more of us than there are of you, plus you're injured. I'd say our odds are a lot better."

"Brynjolf, would you stand back, love?" Brynjolf stepped behind Selene, and she Shouted, _"Yol Toor!"_ The dark elf screamed and wheeled about, flesh and hair blazing. He dropped to the ground and shrieked until he couldn't shriek anymore, leaving little more than a charred husk. "Anybody else?" Selene asked the others.

They wisely began to wander away.

Selene and Brynjolf camped by the Sun Stone and headed to Raven Rock the next morning. They arrived in the afternoon to find the temple almost complete and the whole town working on it. Selene cleansed the stone, and Glover and four guards helped her and Brynjolf make short work of the Lurker. Another appeared on the beach, and they rushed over and killed it as well. They were much easier to kill with six armed warriors and a pissed-off ex-thief slashing away at them.

"What happened?" Glover asked, echoing the words of most everyone they had free from the stones. "I feel…different, more myself. But I don't know how I got out here."

"Come on, Glover," said Brynjolf, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We'll buy you a drink and tell you all about it."

They spent the night in Raven Rock and headed north up the beach the next morning. About halfway to the Water Stone, a man in rags came running up to them.

"The secrets! They're in my head. I can't get them out!" He grabbed Selene's arms and regarded her with a maniacal expression on his face. "I know things. Hidden things. Things you aren't supposed to know."

"Um, are you all right?"

"No! That's the point! I can't get the secrets out of my head."

"What kind of secrets?"

"The _secret_ kind!" he scoffed.

Selene pried herself from the madman's embrace. "Do you want to tell them to me?"

First he nodded; then he shook his head. "You don't want to know them. The Black Book, it shoved them in there with black, slick fingers! But my fingers are too short and I can't get them out now."

"You found a Black Book?" Brynjolf asked. "Where?"

"Oh, no, I didn't find it; _it_ found _me!_ It found me in Benkongerike. I just wanted the treasure. I didn't want the secrets. And you don't, either. You don't!" He stared off into space and wandered away, muttering to himself about secrets.

Selene looked up at her husband. "Another Black Book. We can pick it up while we're here and take it with us to Neloth."

Brynjolf closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

"Brynjolf, you know we have to read them. I can't fight Miraak here, and reading the Black Books should send me to Apocrypha."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I'm going to like it." He drew a quivering breath. "We lost a child last time you went to Apocrypha, and I almost lost you. We can't know the same thing isn't going to happen again. Now we find this man who has gone completely mad because of a Black Book. I think I'm going to die just a little bit every time you read one, Selene."

Selene stepped closer to him and took his face in her hands, kissing him softly. "Let's see what Neloth has to say about them. Maybe he can give some insight about how I can protect myself better while I'm there."

"Agreed," he sighed with resignation.

They found the Water Stone up a short hill from the beach, where a ship was docked just offshore and two dinghies were parked in the sand. A cultist guarded the stone, and Selene took him out with a couple of arrows before cleansing the stone. Three of the four Nords helped her and Brynjolf kill the Lurker, but before they could start asking questions, a dragon appeared over the hill and attacked.

"Help!" one of the Nords cried, and they all ducked behind rocks and carts to hide from the beast.

Selene and Brynjolf had a time of it because of the rocky terrain. She would Shout Dragonrend at it and it would land, but it would drop too far down the hill or on the other side of a ridge and recover and take flight before she and Brynjolf reached it. Then it would hover overhead and spit fire at them. She finally got it to land nearby, and she and Brynjolf were able to take it out.

As the dragon began to disintegrate, Miraak appeared next to Selene. She couldn't see his face behind his mask, but she just knew he had a smug grin as he said, "This dragon's soul belongs to me. One step closer to my return." He disappeared with a flash, and Selene snarled and stomped her feet with fury.

"I am so sick of that bastard!" she growled.

"I know," said Brynjolf, "but we're one step closer to defeating him. This was the last stone."

She looked over at the Nords, who were approaching and beginning to ask questions, and rolled her eyes. Ignoring them, she pulled a bone and scale from the dragon while Brynjolf answered their queries. After a while, they left the area and headed back to their dinghies, and Selene looked up at Brynjolf. "Benkongerike?"

Brynjolf nodded with a heavy sigh, and they headed toward the ruin.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	24. The Dragonborn's Tale 24: The Mushroom

The Dragonborn's Tale 24

The Mushroom

Selene and Brynjolf spent the night in the shelter of Saering's Watch and went up to Benkongerike the next morning. The map and the pillars leading up to Benkongerike indicated that it was a Nordic ruin, but from the outside, it just looked like a cave. It faced the ocean and afforded a majestic view.

"That's beautiful," Selene gasped as she looked out over the landscape.

"Yes, yes, this is a fertile land and we will thrive. We will rule over all this land and we will call it...This Land."

Selene laughed and punched him playfully on the arm. "Brynjolf, you're so full of shit."

"Ach! Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal." He bent down and kissed her on the neck, and she half-heartedly batted him away.

"Stop it. A troll is going to come along, and we'll be killed because we were too busy making out."

"Nah, you'd smell it before it got to us. Kiss me."

Selene complied, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close.

"I love you, wife," he whispered.

"I love you, too. Are you ready to go inside?"

"Oh, I suppose," he replied with an exaggerated sigh.

She turned toward the entrance to the cave, which was flanked by fence posts and barrels. A chest stood by the door, and inside it Selene found some gold and cheap trinkets. In the cave, a snowy ramp led downward to more fence posts, trinkets, and hide tarps, as well as a small hut.

"Rieklings," said Brynjolf, echoing Selene's thoughts.

They found them a little farther in, just below an overhang and short slope. They didn't see Selene and Brynjolf, and she picked them off quickly and easily with her bow. Rummaging through the little men's rubble for valuables, they found lots of gems, some gold, and oddly, several statues of Dibella.

Brynjolf chuckled. "Do you think they appreciate tall women?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen any females; maybe they appreciate _any_ women."

"Or we _have_ seen females and just couldn't tell. Maybe they look just like the males. They remind me of the Falmer."

"Perhaps, but the Rieklings are cuter."

Eventually the icy cave gave way to the Nordic ruin, and they navigated the familiar long corridors, puzzle gates, and hidden chambers. Selene even found a Word Wall and learned a Shout that would hurl a violent cyclone at her enemies. In a chamber just beyond the Word Wall, they found the Black Book.

"Just put it in your pack and take it to Neloth," Brynjolf suggested.

But it didn't work that way. The book wouldn't budge from its stand. Selene discerned that she was going to have to read it here, and Brynjolf was not happy about it.

"There's no way in Oblivion I can talk you out of this, is there?"

Selene shook her head. "It'll be all right, love." She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he held her tightly, burying his face in her hair. Anxiety permeated his scent, and Selene wished there was something she could do to reassure him.

"Take care of yourself and Rowan," he pleaded when they parted.

"I will." She turned to the pedestal where the book rested and opened it.

The title was _Untold Legends_, but she didn't read further before a green mist surrounded her and she was transported to Apocrypha. She emerged in an arched hallway made of books, with pages carpeting the floor. A sickly yellow mist wafted through the air, which was stale and musty.

She sighed and placed a hand over her abdomen. "Very well, little one, let's get on with this."

She strode down the long corridor without incident until she came to a dead end and a book entitled _Chapter II_. When she opened the book, she was sent to a high platform out in the inky sea. A bridge led to another platform and, unfortunately, a Lurker. Praying the Lurker's sense of smell wasn't as good as her own, she invoked the Shadowcloak of Nocturnal and snuck past it. She came upon two paths leading in opposite directions, and from her vantage point she could see that both had chapter books. She arbitrarily chose the path to the right, and the book she found read _Chapter III_.

When she opened the book, Selene wished she had just skipped to Chapter IV. She came out in a small room with nothing in it but a table holding a book pod and a Seeker. A terrible, oppressive weight settled over her, and she thought her heart would stop beating altogether. The fluttering in her belly made her wonder if Rowan knew what was going on and was afraid, too. It was all she could do to control her breathing as she drew an arrow and aimed at the creature, who was hurling an energy bolt at her. She managed to dodge the bolt and let her arrow fly, and the Seeker screamed in pain. It disappeared, and Selene took the opportunity to draw another arrow, tracking the invisible creature by its scent, which smelled like wet paper. She was ready when it reappeared, and she fired the arrow before it could send an energy bolt at her. It did get the shot off, however, and it hit her squarely in the face. She reeled as pain radiated throughout her body, but she did her best to shake it off and draw another arrow. This one finally took the Seeker down.

The pod on the table held a grand soul gem and a couple of books she didn't have. Not really knowing if anything she picked up would make it back to Nirn with her, she stuffed the books and gem into her knapsack anyway. Behind her was a book marked _Chapter II_, and she opened it and went back.

_Chapter IV_ took her to a large room with alcoves to each side and at the back and a gated room in the center. Some of the nooks were open, but two at the side and the one at the back were closed off with stained glass gates. Stairs led up to all of the nooks except the one at the back, and with this one the stairs seemed to be folded up, leaving a blank wall below the door. One of the closed doors had a scrye outside, and Selene figured activating the scrye would open the doors. The closed doors weren't the problem, though. The problem was the two Seekers that guarded it and the door in the center.

They didn't see her yet, so she said a silent prayer to Kynareth and took aim at the nearest one. It must have been a very lucky shot, because the Seeker fell with one arrow. She muttered thanks to Nocturnal, as well as the goddess, then set her sights on the other creature, who was slowly approaching. It got a shot off before she did, and the energy bolt rattled her, but she recovered as quickly as she could and sent an arrow right into the toothy maw in its gut. The Seeker screamed and hurled the next energy bolt wildly, missing Selene altogether. The thing continued to whine and whimper, and she realized she had found the Seekers' weakness. She aimed and shot the next arrow at the mouth and watched the Seeker fall backward, wailing like a little girl. One more arrow killed it.

When she searched the two dead Seekers, Selene found a spell tome. It was Candlelight, a spell in the School of Alteration. Such a light might come in handy if her night vision ever failed her, and it was a simple incantation that didn't require a lot of magicka. She read through the tome a few times and memorized the spell; then concentrating her will, she held out her hand and said the words. With a small _poof_, a ball of blue light blinked into existence and rose into the air above her head. As soon as the light appeared, the book disappeared, startling Selene. She didn't understand how learning a spell could destroy the tome. Then again, she understood so little about magic, she probably shouldn't be using it anyway. But she added the Candlelight spell to her small magical arsenal anyway and got on with it.

The scrye opened the gate onto a room with nothing in it but another scrye, which opened the door gate the opposite side. The scrye in that room opened the door in the center, where she only found another scrye, albeit a bit more ornate. This one opened the door at the back and extended the stairs so she could reach it. In the little room were some books and a lot of gold, in addition to the book for _Chapter V_.

She emerged into a long hallway with more yellow mist drifting through. As she walked through the corridor, she came upon two doors on opposite sides of the hall. Both were locked, although they had scryes on the other side of the doors. With nothing else to do, she continued on her way, but as she moved down the hall, the whole thing started to move beneath her. The corridor was changing position, drifting toward the left. When it stopped, it opened onto a room with an ink pool in the center and a Lurker emerging from it.

It saw her immediately, so there was no slipping past it. She backed up and shot at the Lurker, and it snarled and spat tentacles and acid at her. She managed to turn her head before the acid got in her eyes. It charged her and she couldn't recover fast enough, and it kicked her across the room. She thanked Kynareth and Nocturnal it didn't kick her in the stomach. There was no time to lie and lick her wounds, though, because it was coming after her again. She scrambled up and darted out of the way, drawing and shooting at it. Her quickness was the only thing that saved her, because she managed to stay two steps ahead of it as it charged her, taking shots whenever she could. The Lurker finally collapsed and died, and Selene dropped to the floor with exhaustion. She placed a hand on her belly.

"Are you all right, little one? _I'm_ not all right." She dug in her pack for a stamina potion and drank it down. Starting to feel better after a few minutes, she continued on down the hall, which came to a stop at the original corridor. She was on the other side of the left-hand door, and the scrye put her back where she had come from. She stared at the other door, then back up the hall, which had shifted back to its original position. Groaning, she muttered, "I'll bet the same is about to happen on this side, Lurker and all. Lovely."

She was right. The hall shifted, the Lurker appeared, and she played cat and mouse with it for half an hour before she finally defeated it. This time, however, she needed a healing potion instead of a stamina potion. The acid had gotten into her left eye and mouth, and the Lurker had swiped at her with its long claws, flaying the leather and skin off her shoulder. She just hoped her body in Nirn wasn't bleeding; it would scare Bryn to death.

The hall led her back to the beginning and she grimly trudged down the hall a third time, but this time it stayed straight and led to the Black Book, which had again mysteriously disappeared from her pack. The symbol on the front pulsed with green light, inviting her to open it and claim her reward.

_Behold the Book of Convenience. Choose._

The choices were Black Market, which would summon a Dremora merchant to trade with her at any time; Secret Servant, which summoned a Dremora butler to carry excess items; and Bardic Knowledge, which would summon a spectral drum to play for her, assisting her and her companions in battle. Black Market might come in handy if they were in a dungeon and came across a piece of valuable armor they didn't want to carry. She would rather not have a Dremora butler following her around, and being able to sell the gear right then and there was definitely preferable to leaving it behind. Thus, she chose the Black Market circle.

When she closed the book and materialized in the chamber with Brynjolf, he sighed with relief and wrapped his arms around her, covering her mouth with his for a long, greedy kiss. When he pulled back, he said, "You have no idea how frustrating it is standing here watching you read that book. You never move."

"Nothing happened to my body this time?"

He shook his head. "Why? Did something happen in there?"

"Lots of Seekers and two Lurkers. One injured me pretty badly. How long was I in there?"

"Hours. Did you get anything out of it?"

By the weight of her knapsack, she determined that she had managed to come out with the gold and books. "Aye, I did. I got the ability to summon a merchant wherever we are, and I learned how to kill the Seekers. Now if I could just figure out a better way of dealing with the Lurkers, Apocrypha might not be such a challenge."

"Be careful what you wish for, love."

She stuffed the Black Book in her knapsack. "This is getting heavy. Let's stop in Raven Rock and drop a few things off before heading to Tel Mithryn."

* * *

They arrived at Tel MIthryn late the next afternoon and walked through the maze of giant mushrooms until they came to the ones that had been made into homes. There were three of them, all with paths of packed dirt leading up to round, ornately embellished doors. Although she had seen them from a distance, Selene had had no idea how immense they actually were. The scent of the mushrooms was thick and cloying, not particularly pleasant. She wrinkled her nose.

A man and a woman, both Dunmer, stood in the center yard. The man was studying a book, and the woman was glaring at him with her arms folded.

"Why are you out here?" she demanded. "Aren't you supposed to be in the tower assisting Master Neloth?"

The man shoved the book at her, and she clumsily caught it before it fell to the ground. He raised his hands, and purplish light appeared in them, but when he cast the spell, nothing happened. "Why won't this summoning work?" He looked over at the woman and huffed impatiently. "If you must know, I'm trying to summon an ash guardian. What about you? Shouldn't you be working on repairing the tower?"

"Master Neloth has tasked Elynea with repairing the tower. Besides, what I do is not your business."

"I could say the same to you." He turned and casted the spell again with no results.

"Talvas, why aren't you doing this in the lab, where it would be safer for all of us?"

"The, uh, the lab is too small, and I need the ashy soil. But Master Neloth knows what I'm doing, so don't bother him about this. He's…quite busy at the moment."

"Of course, he is," the woman muttered dryly. When Selene and Brynjolf got close enough, she looked over them critically. "We don't get many visitors here. Can I help you?"

"We're looking for Master Neloth," said Selene.

"He's in the largest tower. Up that path there. I am Verona Nelas, the steward. That's Talvas, his apprentice."

"I'm Selene Stormblade. This is my husband Brynjolf."

"I have to ask," Brynjolf began. "How is it that he lives in a giant mushroom?"

"We all do. In Morrowind, the Telvanni grow buildings from special fungus spores. Master Neloth managed to grow them here; don't ask me how. Master Neloth should be in the lab. There is no need to knock; just go inside and up the shaft. If you need anything from me, I will be around."

"Thank you," Selene told her.

"I don't think you're supposed to be here," Talvas grumbled, eyeing them critically.

"We just said we were here to see your master. Weren't you paying attention?"

He gave her a long-suffering sigh. "I'm busy and can't be bothered with meaningless conversation."

"Aye, the ash guardian. What _is_ an ash guardian?"

"It's a daedra. An atronach. Don't you know anything?"

"You're kind of an ass, aren't you?" Brynjolf observed.

The apprentice rolled his eyes and went back to his spell tome.

Selene and Brynjolf moved past the two Dunmer and up the slope to the largest mushroom. Brynjolf opened the door for Selene, and she stepped inside onto a lighted rune that took up the entire floor. Blue light surrounded her as soon as he stepped on it, and with a _whoosh_, she was lifted through the air in a cloud of blue light. She squealed with surprise as her body ascended through the shaft, a cool tingling sensation traveling through her limbs and Rowan kicking excitedly. She sighed with relief when she was deposited safely on an observation deck at the top and stepped out of the way as Brynjolf landed next to her.

"Well, now, that was an adventure," he quipped.

"Hopefully the way down will be just as smooth."

They stepped off the deck and into the lab, which ringed the shaft. Many tables held candles, soul gems, potions, and Dwemer artifacts. A couple of doors led off to other rooms, one of which was closed. The scent of the mushroom was stronger her, and a chemical odor also permeated the air, laced with a hint of ozone, as though someone had been casting a lightning spell. Neloth was hunched over one of the tables, tinkering with a Dwemer apparatus. He didn't appear to have heard them come in.

"Neloth?" Selene said as she came up behind him.

The Dunmer turned and raised an eyebrow. "You again! You were in Raven Rock, yes? Hammering away at that temple."

"That's not a problem anymore."

"No, I suppose not. I do have to admit it is nice not to have my servants going off every night to work on that ridiculous stone, and I hear I have you to thank for that. To what do I owe the…pleasure…of your visit?"

"I hear you know where to find Black Books."

He folded his arms. "You're referring to the esoteric knowledge that Hermeus Mora has scattered throughout the world?"

"Aye, I found a couple of them, and I need to find more. I believe they will aid me in my search for Miraak."

"My, that is a dangerous path. You read them, didn't you, the Black Books? Don't try to deny it; I can tell. Well, they don't appear to have driven you mad—yet, anyway. Dangerous knowledge, no? But dangerous knowledge is still knowledge and is therefore useful. Usually turns out to be the _most_ useful, in my experience. You know Hermeus Mora gives nothing away for free. You may end up like Miraak before all is said and done. Then again, two power-mad Dragonborns facing off would be quite interesting."

"So can you help us or not?" Brynjolf asked impatiently.

"Oh, yes. They're not hard to locate once you know how to look for them. I have one here that I've been using to find the others."

"Can we see it?" Selene asked.

"My book isn't what you're looking for. I'm quite sure it isn't connected with Miraak. It is clearly not associated with the same power that has overtaken the island. And I'm not talking about Hermeus Mora—these books are all his, of course—but what you're looking for is a specific book, presumably because Miraak's power derives from it. I know where it is, but I haven't been able to get it. Perhaps together we can unlock the secrets the Dwemer left behind."

"The Dwemer?" Brynjolf repeated. "What do they have to do with it?"

"Forbidden knowledge was somewhat of a specialty for them, no? I would imagine the Black Books figured very prominently in their lives. I found the 'reading room' in the ruins of Nchardak, and a Black Book is there, but I wasn't able to open its protective case. Perhaps the three of us together can get at the book."

"Where is Nchardak?"

"Just around the bend. Not a half-hour's walk."

"Then let's get started," Selene urged him.

He nodded, picked up a Dwemer cube from a nearby table and went to the shaft, where he floated down without injury.

"That's reassuring," Selene said as she stepped off the deck and was caught up in the magic of the mushroom's shaft, floating gently down to the floor below. When Brynjolf was with her, they followed Neloth out the door and down the slope toward the Dwarven ruin and another Black Book.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	25. The Dragonborn's Tale 25: Nchardak

The Dragonborn's Tale 25

Nchardak

Nchardak was a huge dwarven ruin about a mile north of Tel Mithryn. It was just offshore and reachable by a wide bridge. Ramps wound around the five exterior towers and led to the main tower in the back. The once-magnificent stone and bronze structures were crumbling beneath their feet after several eruptions of the Red Mountain and centuries of being battered by the sea. As they crossed the bridge, they were attacked by bandits.

"Reavers again!" Neloth grumbled. "I had to clean out this riffraff the last time I was here too. Where do they all come from?" He summoned an ash guardian, who floated ahead and engaged the reavers alongside Brynjolf, while Selene shot arrows at the bandits on the next level up. Closer to the entrance, a mage hurled lightning and fireballs at them, but between the three of them and the ash guardian, they took the bandits down easily.

The entrance was an oversize brass door with no handles, only a small cube pedestal like the one she had seen in Tower Mzark. Neloth held up the cube he had brought from Tel Mithryn.

"The Dwemer of Nchardak appear to have been fond of these control pedestals. There are many inside. Luckily I found a cube to operate them on my last visit." He placed the cube in the pedestal, the doors opened, and the cube was ejected from the pedestal with a pop. "The book is just inside."

They entered a round room with a large brass ring set into the floor. Four turquoise crystals were set in as well, and another one hung in a brass holster above their heads. In the center of the floor was a recess that held the Black Book. It was covered with glass surrounded by a brass ring bearing Dwemer runes. A pedestal with a single control button stood on the other side of the room.

Neloth went to the center and stood on the glass seal. "Tantalizingly close, isn't it? But trust me, no magic can break this. I'd already have the book if it could. We'll have to do this the hard way. Like all Dwemer mechanisms, this room is powered by steam, but it seems to have been shut off. If we can restore the steam to this room, I'm certain we can open the seal. The boilers are just below."

He led them to an elevator, and they descended deep into the ruin. When they stepped out of the lift, they went down a winding tunnel until they came to a corridor flanked by a couple of control mechanisms. Just beyond was a platform that overlooked a massive chamber that was a couple hundred feet high and possibly that much deeper. Most of it was submerged. Two cube pedestals stood at the edge of the platform.

"Nchardak, the City of a Hundred Towers," Neloth announced. "In its day, it was the largest of the great Dwemer archives and perhaps the most advanced. When the Nords came to conquer it, it's said that the Dwemer submerged the entire city beneath the sea until the invaders gave up. As you can see, most of the lower levels of the city are flooded, but the pumps still seem to work." He placed his cube into one of the pedestals, and the water level in the chamber dropped dramatically.

"Amazing," Brynjolf murmured.

"Yes, I suppose it is. But the pumps only operate when a cube is in the pedestal and I have only one." He pointed to four large brass shafts jutting up out of the water. "Those are the boilers. They will provide the steam we need to reach the book, but each requires a cube to operate. The water level will also need to be lowered before power can be restored to them."

"And they're still under water for the most part," Brynjolf pointed out. "I'm assuming a cube in the other pedestal would lower the water even more?"

"Indeed."

"Then we need to find more cubes," said Selene.

"By my count, I would say we need a total of five, possibly six." Neloth turned and went back to one of the mechanisms in the corridor. Selene looked over his shoulder and realized it was a map of the ruin, and it showed where more cubes were located. "I count four in this section of the city," she noted.

The mage nodded. "Five should suffice if you're fast. _Are_ you fast?"

"You wanna race?" she replied with a grin.

Neloth actually smiled at her before turning back to the map. "It looks like most of the cubes were moved to the lower levels, perhaps to try to control the flooding before the city was abandoned." He pointed down a short corridor to a set of large brass doors. "Three of the cubes are in there. Follow me. Oh, and you—red-haired man—"

"Brynjolf," he responded sardonically.

"Yes, Brynjolf. Take that cube. We'll need it." He didn't appear to hear the foul name Brynjolf called him as he led them down the corridor.

Brynjolf placed the cube in the pedestal, the doors opened, and the cube popped up. It seemed the pedestals that opened doors returned the cubes, and the ones that turned on the pumps and lowered the water levels had to be manually released. The room they walked into was in ruins, but the control pedestal was still working and a cube rested comfortably in its embrace.

"I suppose it's too much to ask for the others to be that easy to find," Selene mused. She picked up the cube and they moved on.

After fighting a couple of dwarven spiders, they reached a long, narrow room with a bridge across the middle. There were two lower levels, mostly submerged, and doors on either side. One was partially under water but easily accessible once the water level was lowered, but the other one was hard to get to. Submerged stairs led up part of the way but were blocked by a small footbridge and ended in a sheer wall. By the marks on the wall, Selene discerned that they were stairs that unfolded when the cubes were inserted in the right pedestals. Tables stood in the corners of the hall on all levels, bearing dwarven mechanisms of different types.

"These must be the great workshops of Nchardak, "Neloth surmised. "Impressive, even in ruins. Much of the Dwemer's army at the Battle of Red Mountain must have come from here." He pointed to the door on the wall. "If I remember correctly, the map indicated that a cube rests through that door. We'll have to lower the water to make any more progress and then figure out how to get up there."

They found two pedestals on the other end of the bridge, and Selene placed her cube inside it. The water lowered part of the way, and it washed out altogether when Brynjolf placed his cube in the other one. They went down the stairs to the next level, which was essentially just a mezzanine around the lowest level. They had to walk around to get to the footbridge and door, and on the way around, Selene and Brynjolf had to fight a dwarven centurion that decided to come to life and attack them. Selene dropped her bow and pulled Dragonbane, hitting it a couple of times and shocking it while Brynjolf distracted it. He got knocked to the level below for his trouble, but Selene finally managed to short-circuit the centurion and it fell over.

Brynjolf shook himself off and walked over to the stairs that went under the bridge, and Selene came to the edge of the bridge, where another pedestal stood. "There's one down here as well," he noted, "but we're going to need one of those cubes."

Neloth went back up and removed one of the cubes, tossing it over the side to Brynjolf as the water began to rise. He handed it up to Selene. "Perhaps that pedestal raises the bridge."

She placed the cube in the slot, and the bridge flipped up as the cube popped out. She jumped into the water in the lower level and handed it to Brynjolf, who placed it in the pedestal. Together they watched the steps unfold.

"Oh, good!" Neloth exclaimed as he swam toward them.

Dripping, they all ascended the steps. The door opened onto a hallway with two wings. One led to a chest and some gold, which didn't interest Neloth; the other led to the cube. When Neloth removed the cube from the pedestal, the ground shook and the water began to rise. "Unfortunately, each cube we retrieve shuts down the corresponding pumps, raising the water level. We'll have to be careful."

"We can swim across to that other door," Brynjolf said.

The door opened onto a corridor that led to a partially submerged room. A pedestal stood at a gap in the floor, and a doorway stood across the gap. The problem was it was about fifteen feet above their heads.

"We could reach that passage if the water level were higher," Neloth told them. "There is still a cube in one of the pedestals behind us."

"I'm on it," Brynjolf volunteered. He swam back to the previous room, and after a moment the water level began to rise again. Selene and Neloth rode it up to the doorway, and Brynjolf followed a moment later.

Behind the next door was a dwarven ballista unlike any Selene had ever seen. This one had legs and was shooting on its own from a mezzanine level. They all dodged the bolts, but Neloth swore violently when one of them caught his robe. Selene shot at it, but her arrows didn't do much damage. Brynjolf found some stairs to the mezzanine and bashed it with his sword and shield until it stopped moving.

The cube was off to the side, by the wall across from a sleeping centurion. When she removed the cube, the water started to rise and the centurion awoke.

"Let's get out of here!" she called to Brynjolf. "We don't want to shock it in this water."

The three of them swam for cover, and Neloth managed to get the door closed before the clunky centurion caught up with them. They swam back the way they came and treaded water in the workshop. "By my count, we've found a total of four cubes, assuming you haven't dropped any."

"You know, you could help carry them," Selene replied wryly.

Neloth ignored the comment. "Back to the Great Chamber, then. The last cube is in the area beyond." When they reached the platform above the sunken chamber, he pointed to the north end of the chamber. "The last cube is somewhere beyond the northern door."

Selene and Brynjolf each placed one cube in a pedestal, and the water drained out of the cavernous room. As she followed the men down the ramp, they were attacked by two ballista that patrolled in front of the door and fired bolts at them.

"Again?" Neloth whined as he summoned an ash guardian. "I think they're rebuilding themselves while we're not looking!"

After they destroyed the ballista, Selene placed her cube in the pedestal and opened the door. They entered another large chamber with several levels and pedestals in different locations around the room. Three bridges provided access to the different sections of the chamber and ultimately led to a control room at the top level. The bridges were all raised, however.

Neloth pointed to a completely submerged door on the lowest level. "The last cube should be in the chamber beyond that door. I just hope we can lower the water enough so that we don't have to swim around in this filth anymore."

"You're right. This can't be good for our baby," Brynjolf said pointedly, casting a glance at Selene.

The mage cocked his head curiously, then looked over at Selene. He peered down at her belly and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yes, I hadn't noticed you're with child. This probably _isn't_ good for it, is it? Ah, well. Best wishes. Now. That control room will probably lower the water so we can get to that door, but how to reach it?"

Selene walked up a nearby ramp where three pedestals stood. "I'm guessing these operate the bridges." She placed the cube in the left-hand pedestal, and as it popped back out, one of the bridges lowered. When she lowered the second bridge, however, the first went back up. What followed was a comical game of "musical pedestals," and she even tried using Brynjolf's cube in addition to hers, but only one would work at a time. Selene finally managed to get them all to stay down, and she sighed with relief.

As they navigated the bridges and steps, they had to fight a handful of dwarven spiders and spheres, and much to Neloth's dismay, they had to wade through more of the water. He complained every step of the way. Selene chuckled. She didn't know what it was about the mage. He was pompous and arrogant, and he seemed to think of them as his assistants; but for whatever reason, she adored him. Every time he complained about the dirty water, she wanted to hug him. She wondered what he would do if she actually did it.

When they finally reached the control room, Selene placed her cube in the pedestal and the water lowered enough so that they could get through the door on the lower level.

"I have an idea," said Neloth. "I'll wait here and retrieve this cube once you find the last one we need."

"Why don't you go with me and let Selene wait here?" Brynjolf suggested through clenched teeth.

Neloth looked terrified. Selene didn't know if he was more afraid of the trip or of Brynjolf. "It's fine," she told him. "It's really just salt water, and you and I are better suited for this than he is."

Brynjolf glared at the mage, obviously not sharing Selene's affection for him, but complied. They wound their way back through the room and down to the lower level, where Selene placed her cube in the receptacle and opened the door. They went down a hallway and around a bend into a room with two spinning blades moving back and forth across the floor. The cube was behind a gate on the opposite side.

"Don't even think about it," Brynjolf warned her. _"I'll_ do it."

The two apparatuses didn't spin together, and there was time to get across when they were on opposite sides of the room. Brynjolf stepped between blades and placed the cube in the receptacle outside the cage door. When the door opened, the blades stopped spinning. He went inside and took the last cube from its pedestal, then swam out as the water began to rise.

"I have to agree with Neloth on one thing," he commented. "I'm getting really tired of all the water."

"Oh, good," Neloth said when they exited the chamber. "I'll be right down." He took the cube from the control pedestal, and the water rose even more. He caught up with them and they all swam to the door together.

Armed with their three cubes, they went back to the Great Chamber, where they placed them in the pedestals to start the boilers. There were four boilers, though, so they had to take one of the cubes that was operating the pumps to place in the last boiler. This was what Neloth meant when he hoped Selene was fast, and she was indeed quick enough to get the cube in the receptacle before the water rose too high.

"That seems to have done it," Selene sighed as the great machines started churning.

"There's another one!" Neloth cried, pointing to the boiler level, where a dwarven centurion had awakened and was lumbering toward them.

"We're faster than it is," Brynjolf pointed out. "Let's just get to the elevator before it catches up."

They ran to the elevator, and Selene threw the switch before the centurion got anywhere near them. The lift took them back up to the reading room, where the Black Book awaited, still ensconced safely below the glass. The pistons were pumping, though, and the steam was hissing through the pipes. Selene went to the control panel and pressed the button, and a window opened in the dome above. The crystal moved until it was in the right position to catch the sun, and then a beam split into four shafts of light and connected with the crystals in the floor. The glass slid away, and the pedestal containing the Black Book rose up and locked in place.

"At last!" Neloth cried. "I hope it was worth it." He stepped aside and gestured to Selene. "Please. Be my guest. You deserve the first look."

"Or is it that you just know how dangerous the Black Books are?" Brynjolf countered. "After all, they're known to drive people insane."

The mage shrugged. "Oh, what's the worst that could happen? Well, I suppose you could have your mind sucked dry by Hermeus Mora, but that's supposed to be fairly rare."

"You're all heart, Neloth," Selene muttered. She kissed her husband and opened the book.

* * *

The title was _Epistolary Acumen,_ and it transported her to a small platform surrounded by ink. A bridge across the way was raised, but a scrye stood next to it and Selene was able to lower it. It led to a tunnel that moved back and forth, making a scraping sound as it swung. Many tentacles floated a few feet out into the black sludge_._

"At least these are all different," she muttered, placing a hand on her belly. "Not gonna get bored here."

She walked across the bridge, but when she reached the other side, she found the tunnel was moving too fast. She tried to jump, but she missed and landed in the ink. It was thick and heavy, as though she were swimming in glue, and it burned her skin like acid. She kicked her feet and flailed her arms, struggling to stay afloat, but the muck, seemed to be intentionally pulling her down.

"No!" she screamed in protest. Rowan kicked furiously, as if she was fighting just as hard as Selene. With that, she fought even harder.

Her head dipped below the surface, and the ink got into her eyes, burning as if they had been set ablaze. She gasped, taking the noxious substance into her throat and lungs. Choking, she kicked as hard as she could and managed to break the surface, but she couldn't make any progress toward the bridge or platform. The tunnel swung by, sending a wave of ink washing over her head.

It was no use. She was beginning to tire, and soon the acidic mire would overwhelm her. Poor Brynjolf would be devastated. He had been grief-stricken after Selene's miscarriage, and he might never recover from losing her and Rowan too. _I'm sorry_, she thought as her eyes rolled back into her head and exhaustion claimed her.

"Oh!" she cried as she opened her eyes and the pain stopped abruptly. Suddenly she was back in the reading room with Brynjolf and Neloth staring at her curiously.

"That was fast," Brynjolf said.

Selene dove for him, throwing her arms around his neck and knocking him off balance. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she covered his mouth with hers.

"Selene, what's wrong? And what were you sorry about?"

"Just hold me," she whimpered as she held him tighter. After a moment she pulled back. "I said I was sorry?"

He nodded. "Right before you jumped on me."

"What did you see?" Neloth asked eagerly. "Where did you go?"

"I was in Apocrypha, but I fell into the ink and lost consciousness. I guess they're right about not being able to die there."

"Doesn't make me feel better," Brynjolf told her.

She pressed her forehead against his. "Well, it makes _me_ feel better. I thought I was going to die, and I didn't want to leave you."

"You will go back, won't you?" Neloth nagged. "Soon?"

"Aye, Neloth, I'm going back right now."

"Not yet," Brynjolf pleaded. He wrapped his arms even tighter around her and held her for a long moment.

"Brynjolf, we can't keep doing this every time—"

"I know, I know. But I don't care how you want to phrase it; you _died_ in there."

"I'm still here, love."

He pulled back with a sigh. "I think I'm going to have gray hair before this is all over with. I love you, wife."

"I love you, too." She kissed him again and turned back to the book.

The bridge was still down, so Selene made her way across, jumping into the moving tunnel just in time. The landscape might have changed somewhat, but she was getting used to the way things worked in Apocrypha, and she had little trouble. She fought a few Seekers and two Lurkers, and though the battles were difficult, the notion that they couldn't actually kill her did a lot for her confidence.

She reached the final room, which was resting atop a column across a great chasm. Selene activated the nearby scrye, and the room unfolded like a flower, its walls becoming bridges. It was actually quite beautiful. She walked across the bridge and found the Black Book on its pedestal. When she opened it, however, she got more than she had expected.

A great eye opened in front of her, its baleful stare surrounded by inky tentacles, black mist, and dozens of smaller eyes that seemed to surge and wane. The whole image roiled around the eye, which remained fixed on her. A chill ran down her spine.

"Your search for knowledge has brought you to me once again," Hermeus Mora's voice rang through the air. "You have sought out the forbidden knowledge that only one other has obtained. You are Dragonborn, like Miraak before you. A seeker of knowledge and power."

"What do you want with me, Mora? I still won't serve you. I merely seek the knowledge to defeat Miraak."

"You _will_ serve me, willing or not. Those who seek after the secrets of the world are all my servants. I have knowledge for you that you didn't even know you needed. To defeat Miraak, you must bend the will of the world around you. I give you the second Word of Power for the Bend Will Shout. Use it to bend the wills of mortals to your purpose. _Hah."_

_Hah_ meant _mind._ She reached deep inside for a dragon soul and immediately understood its meaning and how to use it, although she didn't see herself bending the will of any innocent mortals.

"This is not enough," Mora warned her. "Miraak knows the final Word of Power, and without it, you cannot defeat him. I can grant you the same power, but it has a price."

Selene chuckled. "You're like a drug dealer! The first is free, but if I want more I have to pay. And dearly, I would imagine."

The Daedric Prince chuckled, a sound that went right through Selene and chilled her to the bone.

"So what's the price?"

"Knowledge for knowledge. The Skaal have withheld secrets from me for many years. I want this knowledge to be added to my library."

"You don't think they'll just give those secrets up willingly, do you?"

"My servant Miraak would have found a way to get what I want, and you will if you wish for my assistance. All you need to is send their shaman to me. I will handle the rest."

Mora disappeared, and Selene sighed with relief. His presence alone had made her feel dirty. She wanted a bath more than just about anything.

The circles on the Black Book began to glow and text appeared on the page. _Behold the Book of the Voice. Choose._

All three choices were designed to augment her Shouts. Dragonborn Force would do more damage with the Unrelenting Force Shout and possibly disintegrate her enemies. Dragonborn Flame would create a fire wyrm to fight alongside her when she had killed an enemy with her Fire Breath Shout. Dragonborn Frost encased her foes in ice.

"That one sounds interesting," she considered aloud. She didn't use her Frost Breath Shout very often, but she decided to give it a go and see how it worked. If she didn't like it, she could always read the book again and make a different choice. When she chose, an icy wind washed through her, and she shivered. It only lasted a second, though, before everything went back to normal. She closed the book and returned to Nchardak.

Brynjolf grabbed her and held her closely, burying his face in her hair. "I'm glad you're back," he told her as he backed away and caressed her belly. "Much longer and Neloth and I might have killed each other."

Selene chuckled and looked over at the mage. "Did you actually learn what you needed to know by reading that book?" he asked.

"Well, part of it, anyway. I learned part of a Shout I need. He'll give me the rest if I help him obtain the secrets of the Skaal."

Neloth scoffed. "Secrets, bah. What secrets would they possibly have worth keeping? Sounds like a bargain to me. He learns some fascinating new ways to skin a horker, and you become the second most powerful Dragonborn that ever lived.

It was nice to think of, but Selene had a feeling it wouldn't be nearly that simple.

A dragon attacked them as they left the building.

"By Malacath's toenails!" Neloth shrieked. "Where did _that_ come from?"

"Miraak has commanded your death," the dragon's voice boomed.

Selene shrugged. "Well, let's get on with it, then. _Joor zah frul!"_

The dragon screamed, soared for a brief moment, and then plummeted to the ground. Neloth summoned an ash guardian, Brynjolf charged with his sword, and Selene shot from a distance. When the dragon looked as though he was about to take flight again, she threw Dragonrend at him a second time. Not long after that, he gave one final roar and died. Neloth watched in awe as Selene absorbed his soul.

His name was _Krosulhah_, which translated to _Sorcerer, Day, Mind._ It didn't make any sense to Selene, and he wasn't talking to her. Perhaps she was wrong about the meaning.

"I wonder if a dragon could be captured alive," Neloth said as Selene pulled a bone and scale from the dead creature. "It would make a marvelous specimen."

"Aye," she replied, heading toward the exit ramp, "it would really be amazing to capture a dragon alive."

Brynjolf chuckled and walked after them.

"Neloth, I need a bath," she mentioned as they walked. "I don't suppose you could help me with that, could you?"

"Heh, are you joking? After trudging through that mess, we _all_ need baths!"

She looked back at Brynjolf. "After we get cleaned up, we can take a short rest and head back to the Skaal, aye?"

"Aye," he replied, although he didn't seem to like taking anything else from Neloth.

Selene shrugged. He would get over it.

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	26. The Dragonborn's Tale 26: Lost

The Dragonborn's Tale 26

Lost

Selene and Brynjolf went back to Raven Rock and traded some things they had picked up on the road. Glover mentioned a group of hunters at Frostmoon Crag that they might trade with, and they decided to stop there on the way to the Skaal Village. They rested for the night and headed north the next morning, stopping at Brodir Grove that night after fighting and killing some bandits who had made camp there. Frostmoon Crag was a hollow in a rocky hillside about an hour's walk north of Brodir Grove. When they got there, Selene got a surprise.

As she walked up the narrow, boulder-flanked path to the crag, she became aware of very familiar scents. She didn't know _who_ these hunters were, but she knew _what_ they were. They were werewolves.

As they reached the campsite, a woman dressed in primitive-looking furs stood up and drew a dagger. "Hold travelers. You have no business here. Be on your way." She stopped, sniffed them, and cocked her head curiously at Selene. "Wait, you're one of us. A werewolf."

"I am."

The woman put her dagger away. "Welcome, sister. I am Rakel of the Frostmoon Pack."

"I'm Selene of the Companions, and this is my husband Brynjolf."

Rakel looked at Brynjolf with distaste. "A human."

"I try not to hold that against him," Selene teased. "We were told we might trade here."

"Talk to Majni, our Alpha. He is over there." She pointed to a red-haired, bearded Nord who sat by the fire under a great overhang.

Selene thanked to Rakel and strode over to Majni, who nodded. "Welcome sister. It has been long since we met another who shares our blood. Did I hear you say you are of the Companions?"

"Aye, that's right."

"There were always rumors that the Companions were werewolves."

"Not all of them; it's a small pack, only three of us. Are there other werewolves on Solstheim?"

The Alpha shrugged. "You might find a few. Strays, loners. Ours is the last true pack that remains." He looked over at Brynjolf. "Has your mate not offered you the beast blood? Or have you refused Hircine's blessing?"

"I'm afraid I'm already committed to another Daedric Prince," Brynjolf told him. "They don't like it when their followers cheat on them."

Majni chuckled. "Well, you are both welcome here, so long as you obey our laws."

It turned out that Majni didn't have much to trade except some rings enchanted by Hircine himself. Selene traded for a ring that would help her regenerate health more quickly when she was in beast form. They asked Selene to hunt with them, but she didn't want to leave Brynjolf alone, so she respectfully declined. After visiting a bit longer, they left the camp with an open invitation to come back and hunt with them.

"You could have hunted if you had wanted to," Brynjolf mentioned.

"No, we'd have likely been gone all night, and we don't have time for that. Besides, what would you have done while I was away?"

"Good point. It's funny. I never thought about becoming a werewolf."

"If you wanted to, I would do it. Like you, though, I don't know how Nocturnal would react to that."

He was quiet for a while, pensive. "What's it like?" he asked finally.

"What, being a werewolf? Well, you know I don't get a lot of sleep. The desire to hunt, the taste for blood, they're always there. I have good control over my wolf spirit, but at first, just getting angry would make her try to surface. I almost shifted accidentally several times before I learned to control her, and I did some things I'm not proud of."

"You fed on humans?"

"I fed on humans," she confirmed. "You would get angry a lot more easily. But again, it's a control issue. Vilkas could barely contain his temper. Farkas, Aela, and I do a better job."

"But those are the bad things. You don't want to be cured; there must be _something_ you like."

"Oh, aye. The strength, the speed, the freedom. The senses are enhanced. You can see in the dark, and your sense of smell is out of this world, even in human form. You can hear a little better, but not much, in human form, anyway. Then there's the sex."

"Aye, you do seem particularly enthusiastic after you've been out hunting."

"The mating instinct is strongest after the shift."

"What is it like when you're both werewolves?"

"That, my love, is a loaded question, and I'm not answering it. You're actually thinking about this, aren't you?"

Brynjolf shrugged. "Perhaps. I'm not ready to do it tomorrow, but it's something to think about."

They fought a dragon later that morning. Miraak appeared and absorbed its soul, putting Selene in a bad mood. After the fight, they headed north again, or so they thought, but they got turned around. North of the snow line, much of the landscape looked the same. Though they both had good senses of direction, they lost their way and wandered around in a maze of rocks and ice for hours. Just when they thought they found had a path out, they would come upon another dead end, and the longer it took for them to find their way, the more irritable they became.

"For Kyne's sake!" Selene groused as they reached a rocky peak with nowhere to go but back the way they came. "We're never going to get out of here."

"Of course we are." He pointed to a village far in the distance. "Look, it's right there. Solstheim just isn't that big. I think I see a trail we might have missed. Down there. Let's try that one."

"Fine."

They found the trail Brynjolf spoke of, and it wound around and down until it ended up on the beach on the west side of the island. Selene threw up her hands in disgust.

"Lovely. We're on the exact opposite side of the island from where we need to be."

"I don't suppose telling you to think of this as an adventure would help, huh?"

"Not remotely. Damn it, Brynjolf, I thought you said that trail would lead us out of there."

"It _did_ lead us out of there," he pointed out, the patience in his voice starting to disappear.

"Aye, in the wrong direction!" she shouted. "You would think you'd know the difference between east and west."

Brynjolf's face turned red, and his green eyes blazed. "All right, fine, crazy pregnant lady! What do you suggest?"

"Do not call me, 'crazy pregnant lady.'"

"It's better than the other name I'm thinking of. You're just as lost as I am, _my darling_. You haven't exactly led us in the right direction either, so get the Void off my back about making a wrong turn."

"Troll!"

"And that's better than 'crazy pregnant lady' how?"

"No, troll!" She pointed behind Brynjolf, and he turned to see a frost troll lumbering down the beach at them. Selene quickly nocked an arrow, aimed, and shot at the troll as Brynjolf drew his sword. She managed to get another shot off before he charged the beast, and he finished it off, taking his frustration with Selene out on it. He sustained some scrapes and bruises in the fight, and they sat down on the beach afterward, where Selene set about treating a deep gash in his forehead.

Brynjolf chuckled as she stitched the wound. "I thought you had called me a troll."

"I should have after you called me a crazy pregnant lady."

"Tell me you haven't been moody today. You've been biting my head off for nothing ever since Miraak stole that soul."

"Getting us lost is not nothing."

"You're just as responsible for that as I am, and you know it. But you don't hear me calling you down for it."

Selene sighed. "You're right; I'm sorry. But the fact remains—we've trudged through half of Solstheim and we're _still_ lost."

"We're not lost anymore. We know exactly where we are."

"Oh? And how do we get to the Skaal Village from here?"

"Well, we'll just have to . . . walk, uh . . . walk around . . . the entire north end of the island. All right, we're still lost."

Selene chuckled and kissed his bandaged forehead. "I love you, troll."

"I love you, too, crazy pregnant lady."

* * *

They had three choices: they could go back the way they came and try to find their way through, they could head south along the beach and start again from Raven Rock, or they could go north. They decided to try going north.

As they neared the far north side of the island, they found a path leading away from the beach. The path led to another choice. They came upon a waterfall with a steep drop to a stream leading to the ocean. Near the waterfall was a door set into the glacier. There was access to the other side across the top of the waterfall, but they were tired and wanted to get out of the weather, so they decided to at least see what was behind the door. The map hadn't been much use all day, but if they were reading it right now, this seemed to be Castle Karstaag. If it was, hopefully they would find some evidence that Esmond Tyne, the thief who took Glover Mallory's bonemold formula, had been there.

The door had a master lock, which Selene picked, and it opened onto snow-covered courtyard with braziers containing glowing white stones to provide light. A giant, stone throne stood at one end, and a headless skeleton sat on it. Guarding the throne were three Rieklings. Selene and Brynjolf fought and killed the Rieklings and looked around the courtyard, but they couldn't find anything to loot; and though it was somewhat sheltered, they were still mostly out in the weather. They located a cave entrance off to one side, in which they found a colony of Rieklings.

"This day just gets better and better," Selene grumbled. "So much for resting inside."

She didn't like the idea of killing the Rieklings in their own home, so they tried to sneak through and kill as few of them as possible. They managed to sneak through the colony and down several levels of stairs and bridges without disrupting the whole place, and they only ended up killing three more of the little men. Selene hated it, but they had seen them and attacked, so there was nothing else they could do.

They crossed a bridge on one of the lowest levels and discovered a human lying dead on the ice below—a human wearing Guild armor.

"Esmond Tyne, I presume," said Brynjolf.

It was indeed Esmond, and he had Glover's bonemold formula folded up and stuffed into one of his pockets along with some gold, gems, and a valuable ebony dagger. Just beyond Esmond's body lay the cave's exit, and they came out halfway down the waterfall under a starlit sky. Fortunately, they found a slope that took them back up to the top. It was slippery and they had to help each other, but they made it without sliding back down and plunging into the stream. They made their way carefully across the waterfall, and with a little bit more climbing they found Benkongerike.

"Thank the Divines," Selene sighed with relief.

They figured the cave was empty because they had cleared it days ago, but Brynjolf explored it just to make sure. They were alone, and they were able to spend the night out of the frigid air. They left for the Skaal Village the next morning.

The weather was bad and it was slow going; they didn't arrive at the village until late in the afternoon. They found Storn and Frea sitting on the bench outside their home.

"Welcome, Skaal-Friends," Frea greeted them. "It is good to see you."

"But you are troubled," Storn noted.

"Aye. I spoke with Hermeus Mora."

"Ah, old Herma-Mora himself." He almost sounded affectionate. "So he's the one behind Miraak's power. I should have known."

"Why do you call him that?" Brynjolf asked. "It sounds like a child's rendition."

"It is simply our name for him. The Demon of Knowledge. He has long been our enemy."

"He told me he wants the 'Secrets of the Skaal.'"

"All-Maker preserve us," Frea whispered.

"We have many tales of Herma-Mora trying to trick us into revealing our secrets," Storn told them.

"But what secrets?" Selene wondered.

"Ancient lore handed down from shaman to shaman since the All-Maker first gave Solstheim to the Skaal. How to talk to the wind, how to listen to the earth. Nothing about power or mastery, nothing the Demon of Knowledge could use. But it is his nature to hoard secrets, and their value to him is of no consequence. The very fact that we have kept knowledge from him has increased his desire to have it."

"I need something from him, a Word of Power. It's the only thing that will help me defeat Miraak, and he said the only way he would teach it to me is if you gave up the secrets."

"So it falls to me," Storn murmured. "I do not know if I have the strength to face him. The Tree Stone is still corrupted, and the land is still out of balance. But the other stones have been cleansed, so hopefully that will be enough."

"You mean you'll give him what he wants?" Brynjolf asked.

"Yes. The Skaal also tell of the day Herma-Mora wins, the day we must finally give up our secrets. Give me the book, Skaal-Friend, and I will read it and speak to old Herma-Mora."

"Father, no!" Frea cried as Selene took the book from her knapsack. "This is wrong. The book is evil and against everything you have ever taught me."

"I must, Frea. It is the only way to ensure Solstheim's freedom from Miraak's shadow. Everything must change. Nothing that lives remains the same forever." He stroked Frea's cheek. "Do not fear for me, daughter. This is my destiny."

She took his hand and squeezed it. "Then I will stand beside you."

Storn took the book and stepped out into the center of town. "I am ready for whatever the foul master of this book has in store for me." He opened the book and read, and a cluster of black tentacles emerged from the ground. Some wrapped around him; some went right through him. He screamed in agony as an inky morass appeared before him, the one big eye glaring down at him and the hundreds of little eyes ebbing and flowing.

"At last, the Skaal yield up their secrets to me!" Hermeus Mora shouted victoriously.

"You . . . liar!" Storn choked out. "No . . . I won't . . . not to . . . you!"

"Father, no!" Frea pleaded, but Storn was caught up in his struggle with Mora and didn't hear her. "Do something!" she urged Selene, but when Selene stepped toward them she was thrown back by some invisible force.

The tentacles squeezed and whipped him about for half an hour. His groans and screams eventually alerted the townsfolk, who came to watch in horror as Mora forcibly extracted the secrets from his memory. Mora finally withdrew, the tentacles fell away, and Storn dropped to the ground, his body lifeless. Mora turned his eye on Selene.

"Dragonborn, you have delivered the secrets I requested. I will keep my promise and give you the Word of Power you need. You will be either a worthy opponent or a successor, as the tides of fate decree."

For a moment, Selene felt as if the tentacles had emerged and taken her into their grasp as the Word filled her head. She screamed with fright at the force of the transfer; next to her, Brynjolf put a hand out to steady her. Mora blinked his great eye and then disappeared.

"I'm all right," she assured her husband. She retreated deep inside herself to gain understanding of the Word from one of the dragons' souls, and she gasped as the knowledge flooded through her. Holy Kyne, the last Word of Power gave her the ability to tame and ride dragons!

Frea knelt next to Storn's body. "Father, what have you done?" she lamented with tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked up at Selene with a grim expression on her face. "My father sacrificed himself so that you could destroy Miraak. Go, then. Kill Miraak."

"I'm sorry, Frea."

The Skaal's new shaman shook her head. "It was his choice. You have nothing to apologize for. Just do not fail in your task."

Selene picked up the Black Book, which had fallen to the ground near Storn's body, and stuffed it in her knapsack.

Fanari came over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Goodbye, Skaal-Friend. Do not worry. Storn taught Frea well, and she is a worthy guide for the Skaal."

As Selene and Brynjolf left the village, she wiped a tear from her cheek.

"It had to be done," Brynjolf said softly.

"I have spent so much time refusing to help Mora, and what did I do? The one thing I had resolved not to. And look at the cost."

"Again, you had no choice."

"I know that, but Brynjolf, I feel as though I've lost my soul."

"No, love. You've saved the world. Again. Now, where do we need to go?"

"I'll have to go back to Apocrypha, and that means I'll need to read the Black Book again. I can do that anywhere. Let's go back to Raven Rock. We can give Glover his formula and at least be somewhere comfortable when I read the book."

"Someday you'll go off to save the world and I'll be able to go with you."

"Let's just hope this is the _last_ time I have to save it."

* * *

Back in Raven Rock, they traded a few things with Glover and gave him the bonemold formula.

"So you tracked Esmond down, eh?"

"He's dead," Brynjolf informed him.

Glover sighed. "I told him not to go up there. Some people just don't listen." He handed Brynjolf a key. "This is the key to my basement. It's my Guild stash; take whatever you want, including the gold. I'm officially retiring from the Guild, so I won't be using it anymore."

Selene took his hand. "You sound sad about that."

"I am, a little. But I know the people here, they've accepted me, and I don't feel right taking from them. I'd ask that you hold that policy as well."

"Of course, Glover." She reached up and kissed his cheek, then followed Brynjolf into the house.

The small room was loaded with poisons and gold. An enchanted sword and shield hung on the wall, and a set of Guild armor lay in a display case. It glowed green.

"That's Blackguard's armor," Brynjolf told her. "Very old and very rare."

"Brynjolf, we can't take this."

"Of course we can. We just won't sell it. We'll put it on display in the Cistern. I think Glover will like that."

A piece of paper caught Selene's eye, and she turned to see a folded note sitting on a side table. It didn't have a seal, so she opened it and read it, her eyes growing wider with every word.

"What is it?"

She looked up at Brynjolf. "Did you know Glover was Sapphire's father?"

"What? You're kidding."

"This is a letter to her, explaining and apologizing. I'm going to take it to her."

"Surely he didn't mean for you to take the note."

"He said to take whatever we wanted, so I think he did. Besides, she deserves to know she has family. It'll be up to her what to do with the knowledge." She put the letter into a pocket in her knapsack and looked around for anything else they might want to take. They split the gold and poisons, Brynjolf took the armor, and she took the sword and shield; then they left the house, thanking Glover again as they passed him.

They went to the Retching Netch and had some dinner, then relaxed in their room. They made love as if it were the last time and then lay silently in each other's arms, although neither of them slept much.

Tomorrow was a big day; she would read the Black Book and take Miraak on at last. Selene was both terrified and excited. She had no idea how the ability to tame a dragon would help her fight Miraak, but the thought of soaring through the sky on the back of a great wyrm filled her eager anticipation. The flight on Odahviing had filled her with great joy. The other part of the quest, however, not so much.

They said she couldn't die in Apocrypha, just lose her mind, and Apocrypha wasn't so bad now that she knew its secrets. But Miraak was different. He wasn't just a Lurker or a Seeker, but she could bet he would have them on hand. But if _she_ couldn't die, perhaps _he_ couldn't, either. If that was so, how was she supposed to kill him? Was this just a fool's errand? An elaborate plot designed by Hermeus Mora to make her his slave? Or worse, maybe he was doing this so she would go insane as punishment for refusing him.

"Promise me something," she whispered to Brynjolf.

"Anything."

"If I go insane in Apocrypha, don't let me live. Keep me safe until Rowan is born, and then end it."

Anxiety flooded into his scent. "Selene, you don't know what you're asking."

"I do. That's no life for me, and it's certainly no life for you and Rowan. Promise me."

He didn't answer for a long time, and she waited, listening to his heartbeat and his breathing. He swallowed hard a couple of times as if he was trying to keep from crying. Finally, he wrapped his arms more tightly around her and sighed. "I'll do what you ask. But let's just hope it doesn't come to that."

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	27. The Dragonborn's Tale 27: First and Last

The Dragonborn's Tale 27

First and Last

Selene opened her eyes slowly the next morning in no rush to wake up. She lay silently, listening to Brynjolf's soft snoring and looking at his sweet face. The stress of their travels and the constant battles had worn on him, and a few lines were starting to form around his eyes. Not that it mattered; he was still the most beautiful man she'd ever seen.

She propped on her elbow and bent down to kiss him, and he responded with a sleepy moan as his mouth melded to hers. She kissed his throat and began trailing her lips down his chest and abdomen until she reached her ultimate destination. Settling between his legs, she took him in her mouth, and he gasped with pleasure and stroked her hair as she moved her lips along his length, stopping every once in a while to stroke him and flick her tongue across the head.

"Come here," he whispered.

She moved up alongside him and he covered her body with his own, slipping inside her. At first, his thrusts were slow and measured, but they gradually grew faster and more powerful. Selene buried her face in his shoulder and tried to be quiet, but a loud moan escaped.

"Geldis is going to kick us out," Brynjolf teased.

"I can't help it. You make me feel so—_oh!_" Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she raked her nails down his back.

"Gods, I love it when you do that."

His husky comment only increased her fervor, and she dug her nails in harder and arched her back, rising up to meet each thrust until the his ecstatic moans and the scent of his blood sent her over the edge. She clung to him desperately as delicious spasms coursed through her. Brynjolf wasn't far behind, and soon he was burying his face in her hair and clinging to her through his release.

They lay together for a long time afterwards, kissing, talking, delaying the inevitable until Selene's stomach finally began to growl.

"I'm getting hungry," she announced.

"You stay here and get ready; I'll go get us some breakfast." He kissed her, got up and threw on a pair of trousers and a tunic, and left the room.

Dreading what was to come, Selene dragged herself out of bed, dressed, and checked her supplies. She still couldn't figure out how it worked, but everything she had on her person went to Apocrypha with her, and everything she picked up while she was there came back with her. She made sure she had enough arrows, potions, and first aid supplies. The injuries were the only things that didn't come back, but that didn't mean she wouldn't need help while she was there. When everything was packed, she took a soul gem and recharged her bow. By the time she was finished with that, Brynjolf was coming in with a tray of food.

They sat at the table and dined on a leisurely meal of bacon, eggs, bread, and cheese. They talked about the pregnancy and how Selene's morning sickness had finally gone away, and they discussed how they were looking forward to ending this and getting back home to the Guild—anything they could think of other than the task at hand. Finally, though, they realized they just couldn't put it off any longer.

Selene gathered her weapons and pack, then kissed her husband, picked up the book _Waking Dreams_, and opened it.

* * *

Apocrypha was the same as always. She emerged in a vast courtyard with a wide staircase leading to a balcony that looked out over the sea of ink. A tower loomed in the distance, an imposing structure made of the same stained-glass wire as the windows. It was beautiful, but it was terrifying because there was little doubt in Selene's mind that the tower was her final destination.

A dragon howled as she ascended the staircase, and she looked up to see several of them flying around the tower. A book that read _Chapter II_ rested on a pedestal on the edge of the balcony. She opened it and was transported to the bottom level of a hollow tower. It wasn't as tall as the one she had seen in _Chapter I_, so she assumed it was not Miraak's tower. She fought and killed a couple of Seekers as she wound her way through the maze of books, bridges, and swirling pages. One set of stairs stood folded up, and she looked all over for a scrye that would unlock them but found none. She came to a dead end shortly thereafter, where a book sat on a pedestal. The tome was larger than most of the books she had found in her travels but not as thick as the Black Books. The cover read _On Apocrypha:_ _Boneless Limbs_. She opened the book to find a poem.

_A writhing mass of heaped appendage  
Slipping grass the squirming slick.  
Extend the reach to touch the face,  
Burn the mind, reveal the quick._

"Okay, then," she muttered as she removed the book from its stand. With a _whoosh_, the stairs across the way unfolded, granting her access. She stuffed the book in her pack and moved on.

The third chapter began in a room with a closed door on the right. A scrye stood on the other side, but that didn't help her. She followed the short hallway that lay in front of her and came to a window with a path leading around it on either side. A Seeker stood in the hallway to the right. It didn't see her yet, and Selene killed it with a couple of arrows. She continued on through the labyrinth until she found another strange book, this one called _On Apocyrpha: Delving Pincers_.

_Crushing razors, hollow shells  
That snap, that twitch, that cinch and rend  
To hold the subject, bodily  
'Til mind blows soft and life meets end._

Selene removed the book from its stand and heard a door opening somewhere in the distance. She backtracked and found that the door by the entrance to _Chapter III_ had opened, providing access to the activated it, and the wall behind it expanded into a long, arched corridor. The passage sloped upward and led to a series of catwalks that comprised the second level of the tower. The catwalks radiated out from a platform in the center like the petals of a big flower. Some led to book pods, others to doors and scryes that stood around the perimeter. Selene inspected pods, activated scryes, and opened doors, finding books, gold, gems, and another book: _On Apocrypha: Prying Orbs_.

_What takes the world in lightened sense  
Can also seek the outward gleam.  
They rob the all of essence to  
Report the nothing they have seen._

Taking the book opened another door, and she navigated the hallway to find _Chapter IV_.

She came out on a balcony overlooking yet another courtyard maze. One corner of the maze was very dark, and a Seeker was able to sneak up on her. She sustained minor injuries in the fight, but since she had found their weakness, they really didn't pose much of a challenge anymore. She didn't even experience the paralyzing fear she had felt after her miscarriage. They were just another enemy now.

A door on the opposite side of the courtyard led to a long, dark hallway that came to a junction and a choice to go right or straight. She went straight, but the hallway folded up before her and pushed her back to the junction. The other hallway did the same, and she was pushed back again to see three Seekers awaiting her. Three were a lot harder than one, and she had nowhere to go. All she could do was aim and shoot as fast as she could while they hurled energy balls at her. When they got too close, she threw an Unrelenting Force Shout at them to back them up.

Selene finally prevailed, and she sat down on the floor, exhausted, and swallowed healing and stamina potions while trying to figure a way out. This was a dead end, but she hadn't seen any other doors or bridges from the courtyard behind her. She decided to go back in the hope that she had missed something, but the tunnel moved while she was inside it and she came out in a different room.

A set of stairs led up to a balcony on the right, and there she found a book called _On Apocrypha: Gnashing Blades._

_Bone extrusions gash and grind  
In moistened depths of smacking heat  
While tearing flesh from averse bone,  
The body whole prepares to eat._

This was one disturbed poet. Then again, considering where she was, it was no surprise.

When she removed the book from its pedestal, another tunnel swung out of a nearby wall. She entered the tunnel and navigated another maze of tunnels, stairs, and bridges, pages swirling around her all the while, until she came to a yard with a large inkpool in the center and a column of yellow mist rising out of it. Selene knew what else was about to come out of the pool, and she backed away, nocking an arrow and waiting for a Lurker to emerge, trying not to tremble. She got the first shot off before he was even out of the ink, and a big, ugly game of cat and mouse ensued. The Lurker finally sank back into his inkpool, groaning his last breath. Selene sat down to rest again and drank a stamina potion, rubbing her belly lazily. After her short rest, she sighed heavily, dragged herself up off the ground and moved on. She found _Chapter V_ shortly thereafter.

This chapter took her to the top level of the tower she had visited in _Chapter II_. Four catwalks radiated out from a center platform, on which stood a tentacle sculpture and an empty book pedestal. On the outer edge between each catwalk stood a platform with another book stand. On closer inspection, Selene found that these stands blazed with eerie shapes, pulsing at her with green light. One was the image of a gaping, fanged maw; another had clawed pincers. The third showed a mass of swirling tentacles, and the last was a baleful eye. Peering at them, she realized they corresponded to the _On Apocrypha_ books she had found. She placed the four books on their respective pedestals, and the green light expanded throughout them and flowed toward the column in the center. When the light reached the column, a book appeared on the stand. Selene went to the book and found _Chapter VI._

The chapter took her around a bend and up a slope to yet another courtyard, this one with Word Wall guarded by two seekers. She killed one easily, but the other one turned invisible, and she had to locate and fight it, taking several blasts of energy from it before finally putting it down.

The Word Wall was different than the others she had seen. Instead of being carved into the stone, the glyphs floated over it in different directions and various colors. One shone brighter than all the rest, and from it she learned the final Word of the Dragon Aspect Shout.

When she turned away from the wall, Selene was startled to see a dragon looming on one of the columns flanking the perimeter of the courtyard. The chanting of the Word Wall had been so loud, she hadn't even heard it approach. _Well, here goes_, she thought as she gathered her breath for a Shout. The dragon simply watched her as she drew closer.

_"Gol ha dov!"_

The dragon took flight, but it didn't howl. It simply drifted to the ground next to her. "Hail, _thuri_. Climb aboard, and I will carry you to Miraak."

"Just like that?" she asked suspiciously.

"Your will is mine, _thuri_."

Selene hesitated a moment more, torn between reluctance to trust the dragon and eagerness to ride on his back. She finally made her decision, reminding herself that she probably wouldn't die here. _Probably_. She climbed on his back, and he took flight out over the inky sea.

_"Whoo!"_ she shouted as the wind whipped through her hair. She squealed with glee as the dragon dipped and dove for the water, leveling out before he hit the surface. Rowan fluttered. "What's your name?" she asked the dragon.

"I am Sahrotaar, your mighty servant. Beware, _thuri_. Miraak knows you are here, and he is strong."

"I'm strong too, Sahrotaar."

She got to see how strong the dragon was, too, when he did battle with two Seekers and a Lurker, using Frost Breath and Ice Form Shouts to freeze them to death. When the creatures were taken care of, he banked toward the tall, ornate tower she had seen in _Chapter I_. "He's in this tower?"

"Indeed. He awaits you at the peak."

"Let's land, then."

Sahrotaar flew over the courtyard, where two dragons perched on columns and a robed individual stood near a large inkpool. When they got closer, she recognized Miraak's robes and mask.

"Sahrotaar, are so easily swayed?" he scolded as the dragon landed and Selene climbed down. "And so the first Dragonborn meets the last Dragonborn at the summit of Apocrypha." He strolled toward her through the inkpool, as if taunting her that he could withstand the ink and she couldn't. "No doubt this is what Hermeus Mora intended. He's a fickle master. But now I will be free of him. You will die, and the power of your soul will return me to Solstheim, and I will be the master of my own fate once again."

"Do you really believe he'll let you leave so easily?"

"I have spent long years learning how to work around Mora. He will not be able to stop me."

Selene chuckled mirthlessly. "I guess we'll see, won't we. Shall we get on with this?"

"Are you so eager to meet your death?"

"No, I'm eager to be done with this so I can get off my feet. The baby's moving around a lot, and my back is starting to hurt."

For the briefest of moments, Miraak remained silent. He simply looked at her through the dragon mask before saying, "Very well, then. _Mul qah diiv!"_ The orange and blue light of the Dragon Aspect effect covered his body.

Thinking it was a good idea, Selene did the same.

"Ah, you use my own Shout against me. You learn quickly." He shot lightning bolts from his hands.

Selene ducked out of the way and sent an arrow flying at him. The first missed, but the next one caught him in the chest. They traded blows for a while, she shooting arrows and he sending fireballs, bolts of lightning, or inky tentacles from the staff he held. They both took some damage, but there was nothing serious until Selene got him backed into a corner. She fired several arrows into his chest in quick succession, and he bent over, breathless.

"The Graybeards have taught you well," he commented. _"Wuld nah kest!"_

Miraak shot past her in a blur and then completely disappeared.

"What the-?"

After a moment, he emerged from the inkpool and gestured to one of the dragons sitting on the sidelines. "Kruziikrel, _ziil los dii du!"_

The dragon dropped dead, and Miraak absorbed his soul.

_Oh, that's just not fair,_ Selene thought to herself.

Miraak charged her then, bearing a sword comprised of writhing tentacles. He swiped at her before she could get back and cut a swath just below her breasts.

"No!" she screamed. _"Fus ro dah!"_ Miraak flew backward, and Selene was surprised to see a spectral warrior appear out of nowhere. The ghost, who wore armor much like her Dragon Aspect aura, went after Miraak. Selene took the opportunity to reach into her pack for a healing potion and drink it quickly. She inspected the wound while Miraak and the ghost fought, and it had caught her ribs, not her uterus. Rowan was safe. But Selene knew she couldn't let him get that close again.

She drew her bow and sent another arrow flying at Miraak, who had taken heavy damage but had defeated the ghost. He switched to his staff and sent a mass of tentacles at Selene, and one caught hold of her foot and pulled her off balance. She hit the ground with a thud, and Miraak approached. She had to stop him before he was close enough to use his sword.

_"Fo krah diin!"_

Miraak stopped dead, a thick coating of ice covering his entire body and practically freezing him solid. _Wow, that Black Book really works!_ she thought. She poured several more arrows into Miraak before the spell wore off, but as soon as he was free, he used Whirlwind Sprint to escape her clutches once more. Again, he disappeared, emerged from the pool, and absorbed the soul of a living dragon.

With a determined look on her face, Selene fired more arrows, but the notion that she might not be able to kill him started to invade her thoughts again. A fireball hit her in the chest, and she screamed and retaliated with a Fire Breath Shout, but she was starting to wonder if it would do any good. Would they spend eternity hurling Shouts, spells, and arrows at each other? Would they both go completely mad before they took enough damage to fall? Would they still be here three months from now, pelting away at each other when she went into labor? What would happen when she finally ran out of arrows?

The ink that went along with the tentacles temporarily blinded Selene, and she fell and hit her head. She must have blacked out, because when she awoke she saw another spectral warrior fighting with Miraak. It seemed that whenever her life was in danger, the warrior would appear to defend her. By its appearance, Selene discerned that it was part of the Dragon Aspect Shout. That was a handy one to have around. She downed another healing potion and stood to shoot more arrows at Miraak.

"No, this cannot be!" Miraak protested as he began to weaken. "Beware, Dragonborn. Hermeus Mora will betray you as he has me." Again, he sprinted, disappeared, and emerged from the pool; and again, he absorbed a soul—this time it was Sahrotaar's. But before he could rejoin the battle, a giant tentacle shot out of the pool and pierced his midsection. It flicked back and forth while Miraak hung there, screaming.

"Did you think to escape me, Miraak?" Hermeus Mora snarled. "You can hide nothing from me here! But no matter. I have found a new Dragonborn to serve me."

"May she be rewarded for her service as I am," Miraak groaned with his last breath.

There was a loud crash, and the tentacle withdrew. Miraak's body fell to the ground, nothing left but a skeleton and his clothing.

"Miraak harbored fantasies of rebellion against me. Learn from his example. Serve me faithfully, and you will be richly rewarded."

Selene's mind was suddenly filled with dragon souls—five, ten, fifteen—all of them coming into her head at once. The power was overwhelming, and she couldn't decide whether to sit down and rest or sprint across the courtyard. Instead, she just stood there, dazed and in awe, as the power coursed through her. She had never felt so strong. Although she was in human form, she threw back her head and howled until the very stones beneath her feet shook.

A kiosk rose out of the inkpool, and the Black Book rested upon it. Selene stepped up to the kiosk, stopping briefly to pick up Miraak's mask and put it in her knapsack, then opened the book.

_Behold the Book of Skill_.

A ring of constellations formed around the kiosk, but Selene had no idea what to do with them.

"I don't get it," she said to the book.

_You may use this book to redistribute your skills. Choose._

"You mean I could suddenly be better at, say, Alteration magic and not as good at blocking? But I don't want to change anything."

_Very well. Should you wish to do so in the future, read the book and return to Apocrypha._

The book snapped shut, and suddenly she was back in her room in the Retching Netch. Brynjolf stood by, eyes wide.

"What?" she asked.

"A few minutes ago, you threw your head back and howled."

"I did that _here_? Amazing." She dropped the book on the floor and reached for her husband, who wrapped his arms around her.

"Is it over?"

"Aye, love, it's over. Let's go home."

Brynjolf sighed with relief and pressed his forehead to hers. "I was starting to think I'd never hear those words."

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


	28. The Dragonborn's Tale: Epilogue

_A/N: This is the final chapter of TDT, but Selene's adventures will continue in _Dragonborns with Fangs,_ coming soon._

* * *

The Dragonborn's Tale

Epilogue

Selene lay in bed, fighting to get comfortable and hoping she didn't wake Brynjolf. If the beast blood didn't keep her from getting a restful sleep, the little monster in her belly certainly would. Rowan should have been born a week ago but was apparently in no rush, and she spent most of her time these days kicking Selene in the ribs. It was fully her intent to ground the child as soon as she was born.

Although she was uncomfortable, she was deliriously happy, having settled back home in Riften, taken over control of the Guild, and nested. Brynjolf loved to tease her about all the furniture and toys she was buying for the nursery and all the decorating and rearranging she did. She had changed the baby's room three times already, and every day he would say, "So what are you going to change today?" She was cranky lately, though, so instead of replying, she just jabbed him in the ribs.

As she turned over for the hundredth time, she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen and a gush of fluid between her legs. "Oh!" she cried out.

Brynjolf was instantly awake. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Either my water just broke or I wet the bed."

"You wet the bed."

Selene swatted him gently on the arm and got up to go to the chamber pot. "Why don't you make yourself useful and get my things ready to go to the temple? And you don't have to rush. I'm not even having contractions yet."

Eight hours later, she _still_ hadn't had a contraction. On the instructions of Dinya Balu, the priestess of Mara who was acting as midwife, Brynjolf had massaged her belly and she had walked all over Riften several times, but Rowan was staying put. Dinya was beginning to get concerned.

"It is not safe for the baby after your water is broken. I want you to consider taking elixir to bring your labor on."

"Is _it_ safe for the baby? And Selene?" Brynjolf asked.

"Generally. It is certainly safer than waiting much longer."

"Give me the potion," Selene agreed.

The elixir brought on the contractions with a vengeance. They were strong and agonizing, and most of them were in her back. She spent the next several hours lying on her side with Brynjolf rubbing her lower back. Karliah and Sapphire took up a vigil in the main hall of the temple, sticking their head in the room every once in a while to check on her progress and offer encouragement. The contractions remained five minutes apart all night, and the sun started to rise before she was finally ready to push.

Dinya tried to shoo Brynjolf from the room and bring the women in, but Selene said no. "I want him with me," she pleaded.

"I'm not going anywhere, love."

"Fine," Dinya barked. Selene propped up with Brynjolf sitting behind her, and the Dunmer priestess positioned herself between her legs. "All right, child, it's time to push."

Selene bore down with a strangled cry, feeling as though her insides would explode. Surely this wasn't right. Was it supposed to be this painful? "Something's wrong," she whined.

"Nothing is wrong. We have just begun. Push again."

Selene pushed again. And again. Rowan still wasn't making any progress. An hour later, exhausted and covered in sweat, she laid her head back on Brynjolf's shoulder and wept in frustration.

"Don't give up on me now, love."

But Dinya was getting up and heading toward the door, where she called for her husband. After a hushed conversation, Maramal stepped out of the room and Dinya returned to Selene's side and took her hand. "The baby is in distress," she explained earnestly.

"Distress? What does that mean?" Brynjolf demanded.

"She cannot get over your wife's pelvic bone. It is causing her as much pain as it is Selene, and if we don't get her out soon, her life could be in danger."

_"No!"_ Selene wailed.

Brynjolf wrapped his arms protectively around her. "Very well. What do we need to do?"

"I want to put Selene to sleep and cut the baby out."

"What? No!"

"I've done this before, Brynjolf, and trust me, this is the best way."

"Is it dangerous?"

"No more dangerous than this situation. Maramal will do the wet work, and I will assist. You can stay if you would like."

"Don't let her die," Selene whimpered.

"I'll do my best."

Maramal came in with a large potion bottle, which he handed to Selene. "Drink it down, my child."

Selene drank the bitter elixir, and within moments her head started to swim. "Don't leave me," she whispered to Brynjolf.

"Never."

* * *

Brynjolf held Selene's hand as she slipped from consciousness. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"It will be all right, Brynjolf," Maramal promised. "Now, stand back."

He took a step back, but he didn't go far. Aside from wanting desperately to make sure Selene was all right, he was overcome with morbid curiosity. How could they safely cut the baby out? Maramal took a razor-sharp knife and slice across the lower part of Selene's abdomen. Blood spurted and Brynjolf's stomach wrenched. No. He had seen blood before, lots of it, and he would not let this make him nauseous. Besides, somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, he was considering killing Maramal and Dinya if anything went wrong.

After the priest was inside, he went to work on the uterus, and in mere moments, he was lifting Rowan out and placing her on Selene's stomach. "Would you like to cut the cord?" he asked Brynjolf.

"I can do that?"

"Certainly." He handed Brynjolf the knife and held the umbilical cord taut for him to cut. With a quick flick of the blade, the baby was free from Selene. She was covered with blood and fluid, and she almost didn't look real. And she wasn't breathing.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Dinya assured him. "Just some mucus in her nose and throat. I'll have it cleared out in just a moment and she'll be fine." She picked the child up and took her to a side table as Maramal removed the afterbirth and started to stitch Selene up, and in a moment Rowan started to scream.

With relief rushing through him, Brynjolf went over to the table to find her lying on her stomach, arms and legs rigid, face florid, and an angry cry emanating from her lungs. He stroked a gentle finger across the baby's back. "It's all right, little one. I'm here." The baby relaxed and stopped crying immediately.

Dinya cleaned her off and swaddled her in a soft blanket, then handed her to Brynjolf. "Congratulations."

"Dinya, I need you," Maramal called urgently.

"What is it?" Brynjolf asked as Dinya rushed to her husband's side.

"I need help getting her bleeding under control."

Golden light appeared in Dinya's hands, and she held them over Selene's abdomen while Maramal held the tissue together. Brynjolf held Rowan close and watched with growing trepidation as the two priests worked on Selene, but the growing urgency in their voices left little doubt—she was in real danger here.

"She's going to be fine," Brynjolf whispered to Rowan, a lump the size of Eastmarch forming in his throat. "She'll be all right." She would be. She _had_ to be. After everything they had been through, she couldn't die now. He couldn't lose her. She was his entire world. Besides, how in the name of the Divines was he supposed to raise Rowan on his own?

After too long a time, the light disappeared from Dinya's hands and Maramal sighed heavily and stood back, covered in blood. Brynjolf's heart stopped when the priest turned to him and said, "It's over."

* * *

Selene slowly opened her eyes to find Brynjolf standing over her. Her abdomen ached, but the blinding labor pains had subsided. She reached for her belly, which was smaller now. Rowan was gone.

"Is she—?"

"She's fine, love. And she's perfect."

As the haze drifted from her mind and she awoke move fully, she realized he was holding a bundle in his arms.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Weak and sore."

Dinya came into the room. "Ah, good, you're awake. I thought I had heard you. How are you feeling?"

"Weak and sore," Selene repeated.

"That is to be expected, but you did very well."

Brynjolf shook his head.

"I _didn't_ do very well?"

"It was close, but Dinya and Maramal saved you."

"Can you sit up?" the Dunmer asked her.

"I think so." Wincing with pain, she managed to struggle to a sitting position, and Dinya propped several pillows behind her. When she was situated, she held out her arms and Brynjolf handed her the baby.

She was lovely, with soft, chubby cheeks and a thin layer of red hair. Selene stroked her hand with a finger, and Rowan took hold. "Hello, little one," she cooed. "My first act as a parent is to ground you for the rest of your life. You've made me very uncomfortable for the past few months. I met you once before, you know. You gave me flowers. Do you remember that, or was it just a dream?" Rowan gave one soft cry, blinked her eyes, and squeezed her finger. "She's strong."

"And hungry, most likely," said Dinya. "You were unconscious for several hours. Are you ready to feed her?"

"Definitely." She opened her gown and tapped Rowan's lips, and when the baby opened her mouth, she pressed her nipple in her mouth, gasping a bit as she latched on. "Aye, quite strong."

Brynjolf sat down next to her and caressed the baby's head with a look of utter adoration on his face.

"How are _you_ holding up?" she asked him.

"I'm tired, but I'm all right. I must confess it was a bit disturbing seeing your insides. She wasn't breathing when she was born; Dinya had to clear her airways. That scared me a bit, but once she could get a breath, she started screaming."

"Her papa's voice calmed _her_ down," Dinya told her. "We weren't so sure about Brynjolf."

"They had trouble stopping the bleeding," he explained.

"The situation was not as urgent as he lets on, but you will be weak for a while."

"Selene, she's such a beauty. We just sat here looking at each other while we waited for you to wake up."

"I told you before," the priestess droned pedantically, "she's too young to focus. All she sees are vague shapes."

"Whatever you say, Dinya."

There was a knock on the doorframe, and Karliah stuck her head in. "May we come in now?"

"Of course," Selene replied, and Karliah and Sapphire came in.

"They wouldn't let us see her before now," Sapphire complained. Dinya gave her a reproachful glare, and Sapphire made a face at her. "I know, I know. You wanted Selene to see her first and you had to make sure blah, blah, blah."

"Sapphire," Brynjolf warned.

"I'm just teasing."

Dinya nodded and left the room.

"You're mean," Selene scolded as the young thief knelt down next to the bed.

"Eh, she'll get over it. Anyway, now that Rowan has been born, I'm planning to leave for Solstheim."

"Ready to meet your father?" Selene smiled.

"Aye. I can't tell you what Glover's letter meant to me. And I want to tell him, too."

"Will you be back?"

Sapphire shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think so. It will depend on how things go, but I don't know if I can stand a life of honest work. And he may not want me there anyway."

"He'll want you there," Brynjolf guaranteed.

Rowan released her hold on Selene's breast, and Brynjolf laid a soft cloth across her shoulder. Holding the baby's head carefully, Selene brought her up and patted her back gently. The child let out a loud belch and spit up.

"That's my girl," Brynjolf declared proudly.

Karliah squeezed Selene's arm. "We're not staying; you need your rest. We'll let the others know you're both well."

"Thank you for being here, lass."

"Of course, Brynjolf. I wouldn't have been anywhere else."

Sapphire kissed Selene's forehead and Brynjolf's cheek. "We'll see you soon."

The women left, and Brynjolf leaned in to kiss Selene, then pressed his forehead to hers. "I love you, wife."

"I love you, too." She caressed his cheek and then turned her gaze to the tiny baby lying in her arms. "Karliah said she would let us rest. I don't think we're going to get much rest for a while."

"Eh, you're used to that. For months now, I've thought Rowan was scarier than Alduin and Miraak combined, but when I held the little bundle in my arms, that all went away. This is just another adventure, you know? I just hope I'll be a good father."

"You will, love. We'll both be good. Neither of us had the best childhood, and now we get to make up for all that." Rowan stretched, yawned, and closed her eyes, and Selene snuggled her close, brushing her lips across her soft cheek. "Another adventure," she mused. "But this one will be our biggest."

_Fin_

* * *

Characters and settings c. 2011 Bethesda Softworks LLC


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